Homecoming
by Miguel51
Summary: After her latest relationship goes down in flames, Peyton agrees to join her best friend in returning home. Once in Tree Hill though she struggles to tell Brooke a huge secret. Throw in meeting Lucas' new girlfriend and things get really complicated. Season 5 triangle...with a twist.
1. Welcome Home

_**HOMECOMING**_

 **1 - Welcome Home**

It had been three days since Brooke had last spoken to her best friend. Three days gone by and the sound of Peyton's broken, worn out voice still lingered in her memory. Sure, the blonde had always been a bit on the gloomy, emo side but Peyton just sounded outright defeated during their last conversation. Like nothing in her life was going right and she was barely holding onto her sanity. The thing that stuck out to Brooke was that only two weeks before their last conversation, Peyton had seemed genuinely happy. Almost deliriously so, to be honest.  
What could have possibly happened between then and their last conversation to cause such a drastic change in her best friend's demeanor? Brooke knew that the blonde had been seeing someone for a while now, even if Peyton was being all sorts of secretive about the guy. Oh, maybe that's what happened! What if her new beau was tired of being kept a secret? And knowing how Peyton didn't like being put on the spot, she probably ended things with whoever this mystery guy was then and there.  
It would definitely explain so much, especially why the blonde seemed so damned downtrodden over the phone. Brooke knew for a fact that when Peyton loved someone, secret or not, she loved that person with her entire being. And if Peyton truly loved this mystery guy like Brooke suspected she did, then the effects of their break up must have spilled into other aspects of the blonde's life. Why else would Peyton so readily agree to Brooke's suggestion on returning to Tree Hill?  
"Flight 172 from Los Angeles is now disembarking at gate four," droned the PA announcer, which brought Brooke out of her thoughts. "I repeat, Flight 172 from Los Angeles is now disembarking from gate four."  
"About time," muttered Brooke under her breath, impatient to see her oldest friend again after almost two years. While they kept in touch through texts and the occasional phone call (when Brooke's hectic schedule allowed such a luxury), it just wasn't the same as seeing one another in person. When she reached the designated arrivals' gate, her gaze immediately sought out her best friend amongst the throng of people shuffling towards her. It didn't take the fashionista long to find Peyton, and when their eyes met Brooke's heart broke at how shattered the blonde appeared.  
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," greeted Peyton with a tired smile.  
"And you look like shit, P," the fashionista stated in that brutally honest way only a best friend could get away with before wrapping her best friend up in a fierce hug.  
"You're such a sweet talker, B," the blonde deadpanned, while returning the hug with equal ferocity. "God, I've missed you."  
"I've missed you, too, P," rasped Brooke with barely contained emotion, still holding onto the other woman like both their lives depended on it. "It's going to be okay now, P. I'm here."  
"You promise?" Peyton whispered, her voice full of cautious hope.  
"I promise," she vowed.  
"Thank you, B," the blonde whimpered into her shoulder.

* * *

The cool twilight air washed over a pensive Peyton, who now stood alone outside her childhood home. The two story house that the blonde had grown up in hadn't changed much since the last time she'd seen it. Sure, the paint was newer and brighter but still remained the same color it had been for as long as Peyton could remember. She wondered if the family who now lived there were good people, if they were a loving family. Were they living out their lives like they wanted to?  
Peyton shook her head at the thought. Regardless if these people had attained their dreams or not was none of her business. Who was she to judge others when her own life was such utter crap at the moment?  
With a quick glance at her watch, the former intern began the trek back to her new home. She let out a soft laugh under her breath. Leave it Brooke Davis to keep surprising her. Not even twelve hours into their stay in Tree Hill, and the former cheerleader had purchased a house for them. And not only that but it was a fully furnished house! Talk about going above and beyond the call of duty!  
It was about the half way point on her walk home that Peyton recognized where she now stood, her gaze directed down the street at the currently vacant river court. Another glance at her watch told Peyton that she had time for a short detour. She wasn't due to meet Brooke back home for a good forty minutes, so another trip down memory lane couldn't hurt, right?  
Her decision made Peyton headed towards her goal, pleasant memories of a simpler times sweeping over her with every step. A soft smile graced her lips when her heels clicked against the concrete of the basketball court, her gaze drawn to where she and her friends had graffitied their names on the pavement.  
The sudden ringing of her cellphone caught the blonde by surprise, who nearly dropped it while hurriedly fishing it from her backpocket. Unfortunately for Peyton, in her haste to answer the damned thing, she'd neglected to check the caller ID.  
"Hello?"  
"Hello? Hello!? Is that all you have to say for yourself?"  
"Uh, crap," she swore under her breath, ready to end the call then and there.  
"Don't even think about hanging up on me, Sawyer," the irate caller warned.  
"What do you want, Julian?" Peyton sniped back, definitely not in the mood for this conversation.  
"What do I want? What do you think I want, Peyton?" Julian snapped, angry. "Where the hell are you?"  
"I'm not telling you where I am, Julian," sighed the blonde.  
"And why the hell not?" he demanded.  
"Uh, maybe because I don't want you telling a certain somebody where I am?" she countered in exasperation. "And don't even think about denying that you wouldn't because we both know you would!"  
"I would not," he denied.  
"Oh, please," Peyton scoffed. "Like you could ever say no to your best friend."  
"Fine, don't tell me where you are," sighed Julian, seemingly knowing that he'd lost this particular battle. "But can you at least tell me that you're safe?"  
"I'm safe," she assured him.  
"Good," he said, sounding somewhat satisfied. "How long are you planning to be gone?"  
"Indefinitely."  
"Peyton..."  
"There's nothing left for me in LA," she explained, her voice tight from emotion. "Not when-"  
Just then a familiar voice cut in, a voice that Peyton hadn't heard in almost three years.  
"Peyton? Is that you?"  
"Lucas?" Peyton cried out in surprise.  
"Lucas?" Julian squeaked over the line. "As in Lucas Scott? You're in Tree-"  
"Sorry, I'm going to have to call you back," the blonde interrupted, her emerald green eyes wide at the young man now standing in front of her. Peyton didn't wait for a reply before pressing the end button on her cellphone and returning it to her back pocket. "Hello, Lucas. Fancy meeting you here. How's life?"  
"Hmm, how's life? Interesting you should bring that up," he nodded, thoughtful. "Well, I published my novel."  
"I know, I read it," she smiled, genuinely proud of his accomplishment. "It was really good. A little sappy at times but overall, really good. I enjoyed it." Instead of looking flattered like expected, he seemed to become angry at her praise. "Okay, what did I say wrong?"  
"Really, Peyton? You don't get it?" Lucas asked, incredulous.  
"What? All I said was that I liked your book," she answered. "Okay, I could've left out the part where I thought it was a bit sappy but-"  
"Stop it," he snapped. "Just stop it, Peyton!"  
"Okay, I'm sorry," Peyton apologized, hands held up. "Forget I said anything! Jeez!"  
A full ten seconds of awkward silence went by until Lucas decided to break it.  
"I have a girlfriend now," her ex-boyfriend stated in an expectant voice.  
"I know, Brooke told me earlier," she nodded, smiling warmly at him. "Lindsey, right? I can't wait to meet her, Lucas."  
"When did you become so cruel?" Lucas demanded softly, obviously hurt.  
"Oh, Luke, you can't possibly still be thinking about that," pleaded Peyton, feeling every bit the idiot for only now catching on. He was trying to make her jealous. "I know that I hurt you when I said no but it's been nearly three years. We've both moved on, haven't we?"  
"Yeah, I suppose we have," he admitted, albeit reluntantly. "It's just...I wish I knew why-"  
"We were both too young, Luke," she cut in, knowing what he was about to ask. And what Peyton was about to tell was not going to be easy. "I know I wasn't ready, that's for sure. Besides, if we had gotten married, then we'd probably have made each other miserable and be divorced by now."  
"You don't know that," denied Lucas, his offended expression telling Peyton that this was definitely the wrong thing to say. Before she could say anything further though, the now aggitated looking author rallied on. "You may have not have been ready but I was, Peyton! I would've waited if you'd asked me to! I would've waited until you were ready, until you were finished sowing your wild oats!"  
"Sowing my what? Who the hell talks like that?" Peyton cried, completely confused by his accusation. "And are you seriously saying I cheated on you?"  
"Oh, we both know that you did, so don't try to deny it!"  
"You know what? I'm not getting into this with you," she shouted back at him. "But just for the record, I never cheated on you! Not once!"  
"Oh, yeah? Well, then tell me this, Peyton," sneered Lucas, his steely blue eyes narrowed at her in anger. "How's Charlie?"  
The resulting slap caught them both by surprise as her hand flashed out to strike the author hard across his face, momentarily causing Lucas to stagger.  
"Fuck you, Lucas Scott," Peyton sniffled, the palm and fingers on her right hand now throbbing in pain. "Just...fuck you."  
"Fuck you, too, Peyton Sawyer," she heard him whisper while the blonde stalked away, tears streaming unheeded down her cheeks.

* * *

It was almost midnight when Brooke wandered into the house, still a bit tipsy from her visit with Mouth and Skills at their apartment. The fashionista felt rather guilty for getting carried away on the wine she'd shared with Mouth while Peyton was alone in their new home, so she had attempted to rectify that by phoning her best friend to come join her and the boys in their revelry. Unfortunately, the blonde had apparently shut her cellphone off, which resulted in Brooke becoming worried about the other girl. So with no other choice, Brooke called it a night and took a taxi home. It was just as well though. She had to be up by nine o'clock to pick up Jamie anyway, and Brooke seriously doubted that Haley would be impressed with her being totally hungover while babysitting her godson.  
Upon entering the house Brooke immediately knew something was off. She couldn't quite pinpoint what it is was right away but maybe it had something to do with the empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the coffee table. Or maybe it was the fact that a snoring Peyton lay face down on the floor between said coffee table and couch.  
"Oh, Peyton," she whispered, kneeling unsteadily onto the carpet next to her best friend's prone form. "What am I going to do with you?"  
"Cha...? No, go'way," the blonde whimpered, those green eyes still closed tightly like she was having a nightmare. "Stupid Julian...you weren't sup...pose...ta'tell..."  
"Come on, P," the brunette shook the other girl's shoulder. "Let's get you to bed."  
"Go'way," a billigerant Peyton slurred while trying to shrug her off. "Stupid Julian...hate you...for..."  
"No, it's me," the brunette corrected. "Brooke."  
"Brooke? No, this isn't what it looks like!" Peyton shrieked, shooting up into a sitting position so fast that Brooke had no choice but to fall backwards onto her butt. Confused hazel colored eyes met wild emerald green ones. Never once in the entirety of their friendship had she seen Peyton this terrified, so utterly panic stricken like now. "Where? Where am I?"  
"Tree Hill," answered Brooke softly, not wanting to panic her any further. "We're home. In Tree Hill."  
"Why am I on the floor?" Peyton whispered, still confused by what was happening.  
"I'm guessing because you finished that bottle of Jack by yourself?"  
"Oh, right," she nodded, now seemingly more cognizant. "Damn."  
"You alright, P?" Brooke ventured in concern, only to dart forward to embrace Peyton when the devestated blonde simply shook her head and began to sob into her hands. "Shh, it'll be alright. I'm here, P. I'm right here."

 **Thanks for reading, please review.**

 _Track 1: Welcome Home - Coheed & Cambria_


	2. Nearly Forgot My Broken Heart

**2 - Nearly Forgot My Broken Heart**

A week had gone since Peyton had her drunken breakdown, and so much had happened during that time. Brooke had decided to open an outlet for Clothes Over Bros in Tree Hill, much to her newly arrived mother's chagrin. Nathan had thrown himself back into his physiotherapy, which Peyton was proud to have had a hand in causing. Haley was now a full time teacher at Tree Hill High, a position that Peyton knew she'd excel at. Mouth, who'd been actively seeking work in the local media, had landed himself a job that could lead to his dream of being on TV. Skills was helping out Lucas in coaching the Ravens, which seemed like the perfect fit for them really.  
The only person not making any progress with their career right now was Peyton.  
With seven days having passed since returning to Tree Hill, the blonde still had no idea what she wanted to do with herself. There weren't all that many opportunites in a town the size of Tree Hill for someone with her skill set. She had contemplated taking a job at the local music shop, had even submitted a resume, but the manager there refused her application, stating that Peyton was over qualified for the position.  
So here she was, Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer, unemployed and still hurting from her latest failed relationship. Boy, what a catch she made!  
"Ungh, enough with this pity party," the blonde told her reflection. "Today, you're going to go out there and...I don't know, do something productive."  
"If you're done giving yourself the world's shittiest pep talk, could you come help me set up the shop today?" Brooke called out from the kitchen.  
"Fine, if you really need me to," Peyton cried back. It was the least she could do for her best friend, who was allowing Peyton to live with her in this beautiful house rent free. At least for the time being any way. Once she got a decent paying job though, Peyton intended to repay Brooke's kindness. With interest, to boot.  
Several hours later found Peyton seated inside her best friend's newly purchased SUV, her lithe body hunched forward with her forehead pressed against the steering wheel. It was a position that the blonde had been situated in since having parked the vehicle almost five minutes ago when her cellphone had gone off. She'd been staring down at the device cradled in her palms that entire time. Yes, it had only rung once but that was enough for the caller ID to display an all too familiar number, which had triggered Peyton's current internal debate of whether or not to call back. Finally, she snapped the phone shut, her decision made.  
"No, screw that shit," she told herself. "You're not the one who ended things. None of this is your fault. You weren't the jealous idiot who jumped to stupid conclusions because of a stupid book!" Peyton glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror, then let out a humorless scoff. "No, but I am the moron sitting in her best friend's car, talking to herself like a psychopath."  
After pocketing her cellphone, Peyton exited the SUV then headed toward the restaurant's entrance. Once inside she stepped up to the cash register, where a friendly looking middle aged Asian man stood.  
"Hi, my friend made an order for pick up," greeted Peyton with a polite smile. "I was wondering if it was ready yet?"  
The cashier nodded. "Name?"  
"It should be under Brooke Davis."  
"I'll check on it now. Please wait, miss."  
That said, he headed back into the kitchen. Now alone at the counter, Peyton took this chance to take in her surroundings better. She immediately noticed that there were only four other customers at the moment, though considering it wasn't barely ten minutes after three, this was understandable. Only freaks like Brooke and herself liked to eat their lunches so late in the afternoon. With this thought in mind, Peyton chose to ignore her fellow patrons for now in favor of studying the decor. Several round paper lanterns of various bright colors were situated about the restaurant, each one beautifully made with intricate Chinese characters painted in gold or silver on their sides. Classical _guóhuà_ style paintings adorned the walls, all apparently done by the same artist if Peyton was correctly reading the bold signature stamp on the bottom left corner of each one.  
"They're really beautiful, aren't they?"  
"Excuse me?" Peyton glanced at the woman who'd spoken to her. Pale blue eyes that reminded her of the winter sky gazed back at the blonde. High cheek bones and a straight nose, all framed by soft looking light brown colored hair, gave the woman an almost regal look. The soft, friendly smile playing on her lips only added to the woman's already substantial atrractiveness. Whoever this woman was with had definitely hit the jackpot with her.  
The woman placed a hand up onto her left cheek in concern. "I'm sorry, do I have something on my face?"  
"No, I'm just a freak who has a tendency to stare for too long," apologized the now flushed blonde, completely embarrassed for being caught. "Sorry."  
"Don't worry, I'll take it as a compliment," she smiled, sincere.  
"Thanks, I appreciate that," Peyton returned the smile with one of her own. "Anyway, yes, I totally agree. The paintings are gorgeous."  
"Looks like you have that in common," the woman commented without missing a beat. "Hey, you're not the only one who was gawking. I just happened to have done mine before coming over here."  
"Fair enough," laughed Peyton.  
"As much as I'd like to continue this, I need to use the washroom," the other woman added while digging inside the clutch that had been hanging from her shoulder, out of which she pulled out a business card to offer Peyton. "Here, in case you're no longer around when I come out, you can call me. We'll go for a coffee or something."  
"Um, I'm flattered but-" Peyton began.  
"Please, just take the card," she insisted with that same soft, almost shy smile from before playing on her lips. "It doesn't have be more than whatever you want it to be. I'm relatively new in town and I seriously could use all the friends I can get."  
Knowing what it was like to be the new fish in an unfamiliar pond, Peyton grasped the offered card then, without reading its print, shoved it in the front pocket of her jeans. "I may not call you right away. I'm helping my best friend out with something right now, but I will call you."  
The woman quirked an eyebrow, skeptical. "Promise?"  
"Promise," she assured, sincere.  
"I'll be waiting," her potential new friend smiled before turning away down the hallway that lead to the restaurant washrooms. Almost an instant later, the cashier reappeared with Peyton's order and the blonde practically fled from the scene after paying for it. When Peyton was once again alone in the SUV, she couldn't help but give her reflection in rearview mirror a hopeful grin.  
Maybe coming back to Tree Hill wasn't such a bad idea after all.

* * *

"I'm worried about her, Hales," Brooke confessed to the young teacher standing across the counter from her. "I mean, most of the time, she acts all fine but every now and then, I catch glimpses, you know?"  
"Glimpses? Of what?" Haley leaned forward in interest.  
"Of just how broken she is, how lost she's become," the fashionista answered, her thumb rubbing against the countertop in nervousness. "I don't know what happened to her out there in LA, but whatever it was, she's not the same P Sawyer we all know and love." Brooke let out a tired sigh. "I don't know how to help her, Haley."  
"Just keep doing what you're doing," the singer turned teacher advised. "Peyton's strong, we both know that. She's even stronger when she has you around for support. So keep being there for her. She'll get through this. You'll see."  
"I hope you're right, Tutor Mom," Brooke muttered into the wine glass. "What time is it?"  
"Almost four o'clock," answered Haley. "Why?"  
"She should've been back with our food already," the brunette huffed. "I hope she's okay."  
"I know you mean well, Brooke, but sometimes you worry too much," the shorter brunette stated. "You're going to give yourself an ulcer if you keep this up."  
"Hey, weren't you the one who just told me a second ago that I should keep doing what I'm doing?" Brooke demanded in mock offense. "The nerve of you!"  
"Whatever, I need to head home now," Haley laughed. "You guys are still coming to the barbecue later, right?"  
"Eight o'clock?"  
"Yeah."  
"We'll be there," she confirmed.  
"Great, tell Peyton I said hi," the teacher cried on her way out the door. "See you then!"  
"See you then," Brooke returned lazily, her attention now on the fashion magazine that she'd put aside when Haley had unexpectedly shown up. It was about ten or so page flips later that a flushed looking Peyton arrived with their food. "Finally! Where the hell did you go? When I said that I ordered Chinese food, I didn't actually mean that it was directly from China!"  
"Oh, stop being such a drama queen and help me with this, will you?" Peyton griped while rolling her eyes at the fashionista's antics. "Also, next time you order so much damned food, a warning would be nice."  
"Oh, quit complaining, P. I ordered enough for both of us and Millicent when she gets back from the errand I sent her on," she explained. "Plus, we can have the leftovers for breakfast tomorrow. So no harm, no foul."  
"No thanks, I'm not the biggest fan of Mu Shu Chicken in the morning," the blonde shook her head. "So what do we have planned tonight? Because I was thinking we could call up Mouth and the boys, then hit up TRIC around nine or so. It'll be fun!"  
"Okay, who are you and what did you do with my P Sawyer?" Brooke teased.  
"Look, I know I've been this giant, depressing pain in the ass the last few days but that's going to change, starting now," declared her best friend. "So call up the boys and let's plan this out!"  
"As much as I'm loving this whole new brighter outlook of yours, P," the fashionista began, apologetic. "I kind of already made plans for us tonight."  
"You did?" Peyton raised her brow, curious.  
"Yeah, I did," she nodded, hesitant on how her unusually cheerful friend would react.  
"Out with it, Davis," the blonde ordered with the appropriate gesture.  
"Well, while you were out doing your best impression of Marco Polo's exploration of the silk road, Tutor Mom dropped in on her way home to invite us over for a barbecue tonight," Brooke blurted out in her patented rapid fire way.  
"Oh, is that all? Guess we could do that instead," Peyton nodded in agreement. "It'd be nice to see how Nathan is coming along with his rehab. And hanging out with Jimmy Jam is always a fun time. So when is this shindig happening?"  
"Haley said eight o'clock, give or take," she answered, ecstatic that her beloved best friend was finally starting to act like her old self again. "She also said that we don't need to bring anything but ourselves, which is code that she'd be supplying everything. Including the wine."  
"Hey, you had me at free food and friends," the blonde laughed, a sound that the now smiling fashionista had desperately missed hearing. Her smile immediately fell away at what Peyton had to say next though. "Just as long as that asshat Lucas isn't there, I'm up for anything." She snapped her fingers. "Shit, I forgot to grab napkins. I'll be right back."  
As Peyton rushed to the washroom to grab them some paper towels, a frustrated Brooke leaned forward to lightly but repeatedly bang her forehead against the checkout counter. The coming conversation was not going to be a fun one.

* * *

"This is a terrible idea. I don't know why I let you talk me into going to this," griped Peyton for what felt like the sixteenth time.  
"Oh, please! We both know why you're coming with me," her best friend scoffed, hands loosely grasping the SUV's steering wheel.  
"Oh, really? Care to enlighten me then? Or you just blowing smoke out of your ass until the light turns green? Speaking of," she pointed to the intersection ahead of them, her sneakered feet now planted up on the dashboard. "Green light."  
"I can see that, thanks," Brooke rolled her eyes. "And back to the subject at hand, the reason you're coming with me is because you want to scope out the competition."  
"Competition? There's competition?" Peyton frowned at her oldest friend, not quite understanding. "For what?"  
"Oh, don't play dumb with me, P," the brunette gave her a sidelong glance. "You know exactly what I mean."  
"I really don't," insisted the blonde, truthfully.  
"Come on, Peyt."  
"No, you come on!"  
"Peyton, don't be dense," Brooke sighed, then smacked Peyton's feet with her right hand after they reached another red light. "And get your dirty shoes off my dashboard."  
"There, feet back on the floor," declared Peyton. "Now, what competition, Brooke?"  
"I don't know if you're that deep in denial or you're just _that_ blonde but I suppose I'll have to spell it out for you then," her best friend remarked.  
"Keep this up and I'll get out at the next red light and walk my butt home," the blonde warned, fed up with the evasiveness.  
"Hey, you're the one being evasive, not me," the brunette objected.  
"I am very tempted to hit you right now," Peyton told her, completely serious.  
"Wow, violent much?" Brooke quipped, then let out a yelp when the blonde reached over to punch her in the shoulder. "Ouch! What the hell?"  
"Be a pest, pay the price," she smiled, satisfied that her point was made.  
"Hopefully, you don't punch Luke's new girl because, honestly, I think she could take you, Peyton," the other girl stated while rubbing her shoulder.  
"Why would I punch Luke's girlfriend? That makes no...wait," Peyton faltered, her eyes now wide at the implication. "You cannot seriously believe that I want Lucas back."  
"The lady doth protest too much," teased Brooke, only to yelp again following another shot to her arm. "Damn it, Peyton, quit hitting me!"  
"Then quit being an idiot!"  
"Alright, fine, I'm sorry," the brunette apologized, swiftly adding. "But aren't you, at the very least, a little bit curious about her though? I mean, she's dating the guy you almost married!"  
"Luke and I did not almost get married," she refuted. "He proposed, I said no. End of story."  
"Oh, I know there's more to it than that," a disbelieving Brooke stated, the sound of gravel under the tires signalling their arrival at Haley and Nathan's house. "But we'll save that story for another time. Let's head inside."  
"Hallelujah," Peyton deadpanned.  
"And don't think I hadn't notice how you dodged the question, P," her best friend smirked before exitting the vehicle, her now shut car door preventing Peyton from retorting.  
With a roll of her eyes, Peyton relunctantly followed after the fashionista. On the short walk up the driveway, her mind drifted back to that night Lucas had shown up unexpectedly in Los Angeles. His crushed expression when she said no still haunted Peyton to this day but the blonde couldn't accept, not with what she had been going through at the time. So instead she told him that she wasn't ready, which was only a half-truth. But that's how the best lies work, right? If they had a bit of truth in them? She glanced up at where her best friend was standing, patiently waiting for the blonde to catch up on Haley's doorstep. What would Brooke think if she knew the truth? The real reason why Peyton had refused Luke's proposal back then? How would she react? Would Brooke still be her best friend?  
"You alright there, P?"  
"I'm fine, B," she lied.  
"If you're not up to this, we can still cancel," Brooke stated, her expression now one of concern.  
"No, no, I'm fine, Brooke," Peyton insisted, not wanting to back out now.  
"You sure, P? Because-"  
"I'm fine, Brooke," she continued with slightly more conviction. "Besides, you were right about one thing earlier."  
Her best friend raised an eyebrow at that. "Yeah?"  
"Yeah," the blonde nodded. "I am rather curious to see who's stuck with Lucas now. The poor girl has to be some sort of saint, right?"  
"Okay, now you're just being mean," the brunette frowned in disapproval.  
Before Peyton could say anything further, the door swung open to reveal their host standing there.  
"Um, why are you two just standing here?" Haley questioned. "Everybody is already out back. Come on!"  
"Oh, you know how Brooke likes to be fashionably late, Hales," Peyton smirked.  
"Sure, blame our tardiness on me, why don't you?" Brooke scoffed.  
"Just did," the blonde said, then breezed inside past their now laughing friend. While Haley and Brooke talked amongst themselves at the front door, Peyton made her way through the foyer then the living room and, finally, into the kitchen where she could see most of their assembled friends through the patio doors. It was that moment when her eyes fell on a certain somebody that Peyton felt her knees grow a little weak. Five quick strides had her out the door with just as many after that having Peyton arrive at her destination, now face to face with the woman she'd met earlier that day.  
"Hey, there," she greeted with a friendly smile, genuinely glad to see the other woman again. "Fancy meeting you here."  
"Oh, hi," her new would be friend greeted back, a matching smile on her face. "You know, I'd have been happy with just a phone call and maybe a coffee. No need to stalk me."  
"Funny, I was about to say the same thing," Peyton joked. "I'm Peyton, by the way." At that the other woman's smile dropped, her face now going pale. "What? Is it something I said?"  
"You're Peyton? As in Peyton Sawyer?" she asked, those beautiful blue eyes almost completely round in surprise.  
"Yeah, that's me," the blonde nodded, unsure and, honestly, a little scared for the woman at the moment. "Are you okay?"  
Peyton's new would be friend shook her head then unexpectedly stretched a hand out towards the former intern, her demeanor now changed from friendly to one of uncertainty and something akin to hostility. "It's nice to finally meet you, Peyton. I've heard so much about you."  
Not knowing what else to do, Peyton took the offered hand and shook it. "And you are?"  
"I'm Lindsey."

 **Thanks for reading. A review would be nice, too.**

 _Track 2: Nearly Forgot My Broken Heart - Chris Cornell_


	3. I Will Wait

**3 - I Will Wait**

To say that Brooke was stressed would be an understatement. With each passing day the grand opening to her beloved hometown's own Clothes Over Bros outlet grew closer, and with each one of those days something new popped up to cause problems. Today, it was the contractors informing her that they'd gone over budget again. Yesterday, she learned that the sprinkler system was not quite up to code and would have to be partially replaced. The day before that had her arguing with some suppliers about fabrics. And the list goes on and on. The thing was though that Brooke could handle all these little hiccups. Given enough time and effort, the fashionista always found a way to persevere. There was nothing in the world that could stop Brooke Penelope Davis when she put her mind to it!  
That all said though, Brooke still had no idea what to do about Peyton.  
Ever since the barbecue Peyton had become more withdrawn than when they first returned to Tree Hill. All the progress, however minor, the blonde had made over the last couple of weeks was undone, and Brooke couldn't but feel at least partially responsible for her best friend's setback. If she hadn't insisted that Peyton accompany her to Haley's get together, then maybe the moody blonde wouldn't be in an even deeper funk than before.  
Yet despite how guilty Brooke felt about her part in all this, the fashionista also couldn't quite keep herself from feeling vindicated. The more that she thought about it, the more Brooke was convinced that Peyton wanted Luke back.  
Why else would she be this despondent after meeting Lucas' new girlfriend? Maybe meeting Lindsey finally made Peyton realize what she'd given up by refusing Lucas' proposal? Maybe, just maybe, her meeting Lindsey had reawakened Peyton's love for Lucas?  
So here she was, having called it a day a half hour earlier than usual, intent on gaining confirmation from her best friend on what was going on. And, with any luck, Brooke would finally snap Peyton out of her funk once and for all. Now the only problem Brooke could foresee is actually getting Peyton to admit the obvious because, let's face it, the girl was notoriously stubborn. Not that Brooke had any right to judge but that was besides the point.  
The moment Brooke pulled up into her driveway, the fashion designer could sense that something was off. Apprehensive, she swiftly parked her SUV then rushed up the porch steps inside. Once there she found it was eerily quiet. Now more than a little panicked, Brooke searched the bottom floor. From Peyton's bedroom to the kitchen then into the laundry room out back, which was followed by the brunette rushing upstairs to search there. When that proved fruitless, Brooke returned downstairs to check her best friend's bedroom again in hopes of finding a clue.  
As the fashionista entered the bedroom she noticed several open boxes on the floor around the bed, their contents splayed atop the bed itself in a haphazard fashion. Most were clothing and such but there was one certain item that caught her attention.  
"What's this?" Brooke wondered aloud, her finger now running along the photo album's edge. A brief moment of hesitation took hold of Brooke but, in the end, her traitorous curiosity won out over whatever trepidation she'd been harbouring.  
The first few pages were pretty standard fare. Some were of Peyton in the first days of her internship, some from days off that had the blonde obviously sight seeing and such around Los Angeles. The further she flipped through the album, the more Brooke noticed that two people almost always joined her best friend in each photo. Often, it was either Peyton with one or both of them but the pattern was definitely there.  
The former cheerleader paused on a page filled with photos containing the first of those two people who obviously meant a lot to her P Sawyer. He was handsome, in a nerdy kind of way, with a decent sense of fashion. The smirk was a little off putting, like he was trying too hard to be cool, but other than that the guy was rather attractive. She searched the edge of the page for some indication of what his name was but found nothing.  
The next few pictures featured the second person in question, a dark haired woman about their age, who had her arms draped around Peyton's shoulders while the blonde was smiling at the camera. These sorts of poses usually wouldn't catch Brooke's attention, because there were times when she was guilty of draping herself all over her friends, but there was just something about the girl's expression in each photo that gave the brunette pause. That wasn't a friendly expression. Not in the least. Or maybe overly friendly would be more accurate because a friend didn't look at their other friends the way this girl was staring at Peyton. It was how someone gazed at another person when they were in love. This was complete and utter adoration.  
Was this why Peyton left LA? Because this girl wouldn't take no for an answer? And how did the guy fit into it? Was he who Peyton was dating after her breakup with Lucas? And did the girl cause Peyton to break up with him? So many questions!  
"Having fun?" Peyton's snarled from the doorway.  
"Uh, this isn't what it looks like," cried Brooke.  
Green eyes narrowed at her in anger. "Oh, so this wasn't you invading my privacy then?"  
"Okay, I guess it was exactly what it looked like," the brunette sighed in resignation, guiltily handing the photo album to the blonde. "But I didn't do it on purpose, P! I got home early and couldn't find you, so-"  
"-so you took it on yourself to rifle through my shit? Nice, Brooke, real nice," scoffed Peyton, closing the photo album shut before placing it on her night stand.  
"No, I said I didn't mean to do it, P," she apologized, frantic. "I'm sorry! It's just...well, you've been so distant lately and I thought...I don't know, maybe it would shed some light on as to why."  
"And it didn't occur to you to just, I don't know, ask me?" Peyton shouted, most definitely and righteously angry with her best friend.  
"Well, you're not exactly forthcoming with the details, Peyton!" Brooke shouted back.  
"You had no right to do this, Brooke," the blonde cried, her voice cracking. "No right whatsoever!"  
"I...you're right," the brunette agreed, knowing full well that she was in the wrong. "I wasn't thinking, P. It won't happen again. I promise."  
"You're damn right it's not going to happen again," her best friend snapped, now pointing to the door. "Get out."  
Unable to disobey, an embarrassed Brooke slinked out of the bedroom, only to flinch when it was slammed shut behind her. The sounds of Peyton cleaning her room could be heard for some time until about ten minutes or so later, when the door swung open again with a still enraged Peyton stalking towards the outside door.  
"Where are you going?" Brooke asked, concern etching her features.  
"To buy a lock for my bedroom," the blonde shouted over her shoulder. "Try to stay out of my shit while I'm gone, would you?"  
"Okay, I deserved that," an ashamed Brooke sighed, the front door slamming shut.

* * *

Betrayed. That's how Peyton felt right now. Completely and utterly betrayed. Seriously, how could Brooke do that? How could her so called best friend betray her trust like that? And how much did she see? How far into that photo album did Brooke get? Did she see enough to guess Peyton's secret? To guess that she-  
"Well, this is a surprise."  
"Oh, come on," Peyton groaned at the hardware store ceiling.  
"That's not very nice," chided Lindsey.  
"Yeah, well, neither was how you treated me when you found out who I was, so cry me a river then go drown yourself in it," sneered the blonde, not in the mood for this encounter.  
"Okay, that's harsh," the other woman stated. "Fair but harsh."  
"What do you want, Lindsey?" Peyton demanded. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could get back to shopping for a new doorknob.  
"Two sixty watt lightbulbs for my favorite reading lamp," Lindsey answered in the most matter of fact way possible, which she raised up for the blonde to see. "Which I already have."  
"I'm very happy for you," deadpanned Peyton.  
"Thanks, I appreciate that," returned Lucas' girlfriend with a grin. "I also came over to apologize for how I acted when we met at Haley's. It was a dick move. Can I buy you a coffee to make it up to you?"  
For a moment Peyton was deeply tempted to refuse Lindsey out of spite but, ultimately, she decided to take pity on the girl and accepted her offer. Besides, maybe the blonde could score a pastry of some sort in the deal, too, because, damn, she was hungry! The new door knob could wait until later. This stupid store was open until eight o'clock any way, so there was no need to rush.  
"What?" Peyton asked when they were seated in a nearby coffee shop five minutes later, the waiter having already taken their orders. "Why are you staring at me like that?"  
"No reason," her ex-boyfriend's current girlfriend looked away, feigning innocence.  
"You know there's nothing stopping me from leaving," she told the girl. "Right?"  
"At the risk of being told to go drown myself in a river of my own tears," Lindsey began, cautious. "Which I found very charming, by the way."  
"Thank you," the blonde nodded.  
"You're welcome," she nodded back before continuing. "I was wondering why you were in such a delightful mood when I approached you."  
"Roommate trouble," Peyton replied, curt and concise.  
"Really? I thought you and Brooke were tight," Lindsey tilted her head slightly to the side, then quickly elaborated at the questioning glance the blonde was now giving her. "Haley likes to reminisce about you guys when we meet up for coffee." She paused. "It can get kind of annoying."  
"I can imagine," she agreed, knowing how that felt from her time with Julian and...she who must not be named.  
"Anyhow, what'd Brooke do that ticked you off so bad?"  
Without really knowing why she did so, Peyton explained to Lindsey what had happened between Brooke and herself barely an hour ago. The blonde had obviously left out the more private details, of course. No need to tell this woman that she barely knew her entire life story.  
"From the sound of it, Brooke was worried about her best friend and only wanted to help her," Lindsey stated, taking a sip from the coffee their waiter had dropped off while they'd been talking. "Sure, she went about it the wrong way but her heart was in the right place."  
"I know that but...there are just some things I'm not ready to talk about," Peyton sighed, her own drink and strawberry cheesecake no longer looking all that appealing.  
"Not even with your best friend?"  
"Especially with my best friend," she muttered, mindlessly stabbing at her dessert with a fork. "And to make matters worse, I'm still more or less mooching off her, squatting in her house, and essentially being a parasite. It sucks."  
"No luck on the job hunt, huh? Been there," sympathized Lindsey.  
"What do you do anyway?" Peyton glanced up at the woman seated across from her, curious.  
The other woman frowned back at her, delicate eyebrows knitted in a puzzlement. "Did you even read the card I gave you?"  
"Honestly, I think I might have left it in my jeans, which I might...have already washed," the former intern grimaced. "Sorry."  
"Eh, these things happen," Lindsey waved it off. "I'll forgive you." She smiled at Peyton, almost teasingly so. "This time."  
"How very generous of you," scoffed Peyton.  
"I'm nothing if not benevolent," grinned Lindsey. "Anyway, to answer your question, I'm an editor at my family's publishing company in New York. Well, junior editor, actually. Refused the big office and position so I could work my way up." She shrugged. "I hate preferential treatment."  
"Let me get this straight," the unemployed blonde pointed out. "You're an editor." The other woman nodded. "At your family's publishing company." Another nod. "Where you refused to use your connections." Yet another nod. "And I'm guessing that Lucas is one of the authors assigned under you, right?"  
"When you say that last part like that, you make it sound dirty," Lindsey cringed.  
"It's only dirty if you made the first move," Peyton smirked, only to let out a guffaw at how the editor was now blushing. "Oh my god, I was joking!"  
"If you're done making fun of me, we should be probably bring this...whatever this was to an end because it looks like the staff want to close up," the older of the two women suggested, gesturing to the two impatient looking members of said staff at the counter. "And yes, it's my treat."  
"Which is fitting since you are the one who asked me out," the blonde pointed out with a smile, the pair now preparing to leave. "Remember?"  
"Yeah, well, I couldn't stand seeing you in such a dour mood," countered Lindsey, handing their server her debit card. "A face as pretty as yours should always be wearing a smile."  
"Careful with the smooth talk, Miss Junior Editor," a teasing Peyton warned. "Or I just may be tempted to steal you away from Lucas."  
"And I just might be tempted to let you," the statuesque brunette teased back, the waiter having returned her bank card and receipt. "See you around, Peyton Sawyer."  
"See you around, Lindsey...um," the blonde began, only to falter.  
"It's Strauss," the other woman supplied with a soft smile, her back against the exit door. "My last name is Strauss."  
"Well, Lindsey Strauss," Peyton smiled back. "Thank you for cheering me up."  
"It was my pleasure," Lindsey remarked honestly, only to pause for another moment. "Oh, and Peyton?"  
Their gazes met, blue on green. "Hmm?"  
"If you still can't figure out what to do next, just remember that 'the good traveler has no set plans'," advised the editor. "And-"  
"-is not intent on arriving," Peyton finished, recognizing the quote. "Lao Tzu? Really?"  
"I like the poetry in his words," Lindsey told the blonde with a sheepish shrug before continuing her egress. "Good night."  
"Good night," she parroted.  
As Peyton stepped out into the night air a few moments later, her eyes sought out the departing Lindsey but the other woman was already halfway across the parking lot. Their gazes once again met when her new friend (if that's what Peyton could call Lindsey) reached her vehicle, both of them nearly simultaneous in their waves good night.  
With Lindsey's advice ringing in her ears, Peyton decided to call it a night and head home, having completely forgotten about the reason why she had originally come to this part of town in the first place.

* * *

The living room was dark when Brooke awoke on the couch, her mind foggy from the unexpected nap in front of the television. She could hear movement in the kitchen, which meant that Peyton had returned from her errand. After a quick debate on whether or not to pretend she was still asleep, Brooke sat up to find herself covered in a throw blanket.  
"You were shivering when I got back," Peyton answered her unspoken question from the kitchen. "Dinner's almost done, by the way."  
"You cooked?" Brooke was surprised.  
"Of course not," scoffed the blonde. "You know that I couldn't cook my way out of a paper bag. I ordered some stuff from that Indian restaurant on 6th."  
"If it's take-out, then-"  
"-why did I say it's almost done?" Peyton finished. "It got cold on the way home, so I'm warming it up."  
As the blonde continued to walk back and forth between the cupboards and the stove where the aforementioned food was being warmed upon, Brooke made her way over to join her best friend before Peyton burned their newly acquired home to the ground.  
"Brooke? What are you doing? I'm kind of in the middle of something right now," protested the blonde when Brooke stepped between Peyton and the stove. "Brooke!"  
"Go, living room, now," she ordered, all but shoving the taller woman out of the kitchen.  
"At least, turn the burner off," Peyton complained, being led away.  
"Fine, just go," sighed Brooke.  
After doing as Peyton requested, Brooke sat down beside her fidgety blonde friend on the couch. They sat quietly through three commercials on the television until Brooke finally couldn't take it anymore and broke the silence.  
"Okay, what the heck did I miss? Did you hit your head while you were out? Are you on some sort of medication I don't know about? Because, seriously, I am very, very confused right now, P!"  
"Yeah, I don't blame you," conceded Peyton. "I did kind of go off on you earlier, didn't I?"  
"Yeah," Brooke held her hand up with her index finger and thumb half an inch apart. "Just a little bit though."  
"Sorry about that," she apologized.  
"No, you had every right to be pissed. I get that," the fashionista shook her head. "What I don't get is why you were channelling Rachael Ray when I woke up from my completely unintentional nap."  
"Speaking of, you shouldn't push yourself so hard, Brooke," a concerned Peyton advised.  
"Don't change the subject," she told the blonde.  
"Fine, if you must know," her best friend began in resignation. "When I was out looking for a new lock for my door, I ran into Lindsey-"  
"I'm not going to have to help you hide her body, am I?" Brooke interrupted.  
"What? No, but I'm touched that you'd be willing to do that for me, B," she chuckled. "Um, anyway, as I was saying, I ran into Lindsey and we ended up talking. And she helped me realize how much of a drama queen I was being." Peyton sighed. "I'm sorry that I snapped on you like I did, Brooke. Regardless if you feel that you deserved it, I should've realized that my shutting you out was what drove you to that. And for that, I apologize."  
"So are you going to tell me why you freaked out about the photo album?" Brooke inquired, cautious. She watched her best friend's gaze drop down into her own lap. "You know what? Forget I asked. You don't-"  
"How far did you get?" Peyton whispered, almost beggingly. "What was the last picture you remember seeing?"  
"A girl hugging you, looking at you like you were her everything," she answered, unable to lie when her best friend seemed so distraught. "And a nerdy but strangely hot guy with an odd smirk right before that." She paused. "Who were they, Peyton? What happened?"  
"Not yet, Brooke," the blonde pleaded. "It's still too fresh, too...much." She wiped a few stray tears from her cheeks but both women knew this was a futile effort. "But, I promise you, right here and now, I will tell you everything. I just need time, okay?"  
"Take as much time as you need, P Sawyer," rasped Brooke, an arm now around her best friend's shoulders as Peyton leaned against her for support. "Take as much time as you need."

 **Don't worry, Peyton starts being less mopey next chapter**. **Thanks for reading.**

 _Track 3: I Will Wait - Mumford & Sons_


	4. Woe Be Gone

**4 - Woe Be Gone**

It wasn't like Peyton hated Lucas. No, quite the opposite. She cared for him. Deeply, in fact. But was she in love with him? The answer to that was a definite no. That hadn't always been the way of it though. During high school Peyton had convinced herself that he was the love of her life, the man she would spend the rest of her days living with. Hell, she'd nearly ruined her oldest friendship in pursuit of him, so if that wasn't love, what was?

Then Los Angeles happened. Or to be more accurate, Charlie had happened. All gorgeous olive skin, dark hair and chocolate colored eyes. They'd started out as friends, introduced to each other by their mutual friend, Julian Baker. The three of them always hung out. The pair had made being so far away from Tree Hill more bearable for her, had made LA seem more like home.

Of course, Peyton had known that Charlie was in love with her. It wasn't exactly the best kept secret. Every time their gazes met, the sheer adoration shone outward for her and everyone else in the vicinity to see. Peyton would've had to been blind not to notice. But because she was still technically with Lucas, the always respectful Charlie never made a move.

At the time, Peyton just could not understand why that had disappointed her so much.

Everything had changed though when Lucas had shown up out of the blue, ready to sweep Peyton off her feet with a romantic dinner followed by a marriage proposal.

That's when the pieces fell into place.

 _Click!_

Suddenly, all the close calls between herself and Charlie made sense. All the times they'd fallen asleep cuddled in front of the television on weekends. All the times Julian had smirkingly left them to their own devices whenever the opportunity presented itself.

 _Click!_

And just like that Peyton had realized that she'd fallen in love with Charlie, too.

So, despite the gut retching guilt she felt for doing it, Peyton had no choice but to refuse Lucas' proposal.

Even after the heart broken Lucas unceremoniously left her life though, it wasn't like she immediately jumped into a relationship with Charlie. She steadfastly refused to treat her new potential romance like a rebound. Charlie was too good for that.

Funnily enough, it would be nearly another two months before things finally came to a head.

Peyton flipped the ticket stub over and over in her hand, lithe dexterous fingers manipulating the paper memento from back to front and back again. She smiled softly at the thought of that night, the first night they'd spent together as an actual couple.

"You ready to go, P?" Brooke asked from the doorway, her best friend's voice bringing Peyton back to the present.

"Yeah, I'm pretty much set," she affirmed.

The fashion designer stepped inside, curious. "Whatcha got there?"

"Oh, just a stub from a concert back in LA," Peyton answered with that same soft smile still lingering on her lips. After placing the memento back on her dresser, she found Brooke smiling knowingly at her. "What?"

"Must have been a really good concert," her best friend remarked.

"Yeah, it was," she shrugged. "It really was."

"You'll tell me about it someday, right?"

"Of course," she vowed.

"Come on, everyone's probably on their way to CoB now and it would look bad if the hosts showed up late," Brooke stated, her hand held out to the blonde.

"Okay, let's go," agreed Peyton, a smile on her face as she grasped hands with her best friend.

* * *

"Your mother is in fine form tonight," Peyton remarked. "I think Mouth is still in shock from their encounter."

"So I saw you talking to Lucas earlier," stated Brooke, blunt and to the point as per usual.

"Yeah, he apologized for being an ass to me the first time we ran into each other since, well, you know," the blonde answered like she'd been expecting this line of conversation. "I said it was fine as long as it never happens again, and now I think we can get back to being friends."

"And is that all you want from Luke, Peyton? To be just friends?"

"To be honest, yes," Peyton stated before taking a flute of champagne from a passing waiter's tray. "Hey, thanks again for the dress, B. I'm totally in love with it."

"The green brings out your eyes," she pointed out.

"That seems to be the popular opinion tonight," her best friend agreed. "I wonder where Lindsey is?"

"Weren't you just talking to Luke?" Brooke furrowed her brow at the blonde. "Why didn't you ask him when you had the chance?"

"Because he'd get the wrong idea," stated Peyton, then shot a knowing sidelong glance at her. "Kind of like how you are now."

"Well, you have to admit you asking about her is pretty hinky, P," she remarked.

"I only wanted to personally thank her for helping me come to my senses last week," the blonde woman excused. "I'll just text her later, see why she's not here. No biggie." She placed her still half full glass onto the countertop, completely ignorant of Brooke's questioning expression. "Hey, I'm going to talk to Skills, you good by yourself, B?"

"Yeah, go," the fashionista waved her off, who was glad that her best friend seemed to be having such a great time. While she was curious to know how Peyton had gotten a hold of Lindsey's cell number, Brooke didn't want to chance ruining the blonde's current sunny disposition. This last week had seen the return of Brooke's favourite version of Peyton, the one who smiled a lot more and laughed at her own dumb jokes.

Yes, now that Brooke thought about it, maybe she should call to thank Lindsey, too.

"Is it just me or does she seem to be doing a lot better now?" Haley asked, whose sudden appearance startled her friend that Brooke let out a small yelp. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"I swear you're part ninja or something, Tutor Mom," chuckled the slightly taller brunette, a hand to her chest. "And, yes, she is. Oddly enough, I think it's thanks to Lindsey of all people."

Her friend frowned at that. "You mean Luke's Lindsey?"

"You know another Lindsey?" Brooke asked back, a little more defensive than intended. Not that anyone could blame the fashionista though, what with Haley's suspicion that Peyton had returned to Tree Hill for the sole reason of winning Lucas back and the teacher's vocal disapproval of said suspicion. Even if Brooke somewhat shared that belief was besides the point. Brooke may like Lindsey but Peyton was her oldest and dearest friend, so if she was forced to choose between them then, hands down, her support was behind the blonde.

"Alright, messaged received, Brooke," groused Haley, who was taken slightly aback by her tone. The young mother had already received one tongue lashing about this subject during their last lunch together, and it looked like she wasn't in a rush to get another one.

"Good, because Peyt's finally stopped moping and is starting to get her shit together," the fashionista stated in a friendlier voice. "Did you know she's trying to start a label? It's ambitious, I know, but she's all gung-ho about it. And if Lindsey is somehow responsible for Peyton's upswing, I'm not going to question it. Neither should you."

"But-" Haley began to protest.

"Drop it, Tutor Mom," Brooke cut her off.

"Alright, fine," the shorter woman muttered in exasperation. "But I reserve the right to say 'I told you so' when Peyton finally makes a move on Lucas."

"Well, if it's really that important to you, then go right ahead, Hales," she rolled her eyes. Brooke didn't know what crawled up the young mother's butt as of late, but truth be told she was getting a little tired of it. If Haley did anything to screw with Peyton's emotional recovery then Brooke was going to let her have it. No one was fucking with P Sawyer on her watch. "But I think the person you should be worrying about screwing up Lucas' relationship with Lindsey is Lucas himself."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because Peyton told me that she doesn't want to be anything more than his friend."

"And you believe her?" Haley scoffed.

"I'm starting to," answered Brooke, her eyes drawn to where Peyton was now laughing at something Skills had said to her.

"Guess we'll have to wait and see then," the teacher stated before walking away.

"Guess we'll have to wait and see then," the fashionista mimicked in an unflattering manner, now very annoyed with Haley.

"Brooke? A moment of your time, please," Victoria gestured to the back, the devil woman having snuck up on her daughter when she'd been distracted.

"Yes, mother," an exasperated Brooke groaned, not looking forward whatever fresh hell her so-called mother had in store.

* * *

"Hey, thanks for agreeing to take a walk with me," Peyton told her partner-in-crime, who just so happened to be one 'Skills' Antwon Taylor. "It was just getting really stuffy in there, and I was not enjoying how Haley and Luke were looking at me."

"I dunno what Haley's deal is," Skills shrugged, hands in his pockets along side the blonde. "It's probably just stress from work though, so I wouldn't worry 'bout her too much." He chuckled. "Lucas on the other hand..."

"...is the opposite of subtle," the would-be music producer supplied with a defeated sigh. "Which is completely uncool, seeing as he's got an amazing, gorgeous, and incredibly sweet girlfriend! I am absolutely sure that if we hadn't gotten out of there when we did, Luke probably would've said something that, in his mind, was meant to be a compliment but, in the end, would have come off sounding creepy or, at the very least, inappropriate."

"That boy still has it bad for you, P," her friend pointed out with a wry smirk.

"Too bad for him," the blonde rolled her eyes. "Because I am off the market. I'm going full celibate."

"Full celibate?" Skills laughed.

"Okay, maybe not 'full celibate'," she amended with a laugh of her own. "A girl has needs, you know."

"So, a 'no' to romance then," he stopped to regard her with an appraising nod.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Antwon," Peyton glanced sideways at him.

"It was worth a shot," shrugged her friend, once again resuming his pace.

"Yeah, and if I wasn't so messed up from my last relationship going down in flames, then I probably would've been tempted," the blonde admitted, looping her arm through his in an attempt to steal some body heat.

"Anybody ever tell you you're a gigantic tease?" Skills asked, jovial.

" _Has anybody ever told you that you're a gigantic tease?" Charlie whispered right before kissing Peyton for the first time._

The memory had came out of nowhere, and it stung. But, much to her surprise, not as badly as it would have a few weeks ago. But, still, it caused her to pause long enough for Skills to notice.

"You airight, P Sawyer?" Antwon frowned in concern.

"I'm getting there," she answered honestly with a smile. "Come on, we should get back to the party. Brooke is probably wondering where the hell I am."

"Let's not keep the lady waitin' then," Skills agreed, the pair now turning back towards their friend's boutique.

 **Okay, this chapter was mostly done to show that Peyton is starting to heal, which in itself progresses the plot.**

 **Yay! Anyhow, thanks for reading and please don't be afraid to leave a review.**

 _Track 4:_ _Woe Be Gone - Ani DiFranco_


	5. Do I Wanna Know?

**5 - Do I Wanna Know?**

Brooke was seated at the breakfast nook when the sound of her best friend's bedroom door opening caught her attention, where upon Peyton more or less shambled out to head straight towards the coffee machine.

"Good morning, buttercup," she greeted the still half asleep blonde, who simply grunted in response. "So, what are your plans for the day?"

"Shh, coffee first, talk later," the other woman muttered, opening the nearest cupboard to retrieve herself a cup.

"Any luck on finding a location?" Brooke asked after her roomie had taken the stool next to her.

"A couple but they're a bit out of my price range at the moment," answered Peyton, her eyes closed while taking a sip. "I'm going to the bank at three o'clock, see if I can get a loan."

"Will they still grant you a loan without a definite location?"

"I have no idea," she admitted.

"Are you sure that you don't want me to just lend you the money instead?"

"Yes, Brooke, I'm sure."

"Because, really, it's not a problem," Brooke offered again. This must have been the seventh or eighth time she'd done so since Peyton confided to the fashion designer on her plans to open a record label.

"Ungh," an exasperated Peyton groaned at her persistence. "You're not going to stop offering until I say yes, are you?"

"I only want to help," she told her best friend.

"I know you do, Brooke," sighed the blonde. "I kind of wanted to do this on my own though, you know?"

"I get that but no woman is an island, Peyton," the fashionista insisted. "Let me help."

"Fine, you can help," Peyton relented, only to quickly add as the now squealing brunette began to do a little celebration dance. "But just in helping me find a location, okay? You've already done so much by letting me stay here and helping me get back on my feet."

"You did the same thing for me way back in the day, remember?" Brooke reminded her. "But this time, there's no boy to ruin our besties-slash-roomies fun!"

"Oh, you don't know the half of it," she heard Peyton mutter under her breath.

"Huh?" she frowned at the remark, not quite sure what the blonde could mean by that.

"Not important," the taller woman waved it off, now somewhat fidgety. "Anyway, there's a couple of spots I wanted to check out on the other side of town. Will Millicent be able to handle the shop by herself today if you're running around Tree Hill with me?"

"Probably but I will need to stop in to make sure," Brooke answered, now sliding off her stool. "Swing by CoB and pick me up when you're ready to go check out those locations. See you then, P."

"See you then," a droopy eyed Peyton agreed, still seated and sipping at her coffee.

As she exited the house, a perplexed Brooke couldn't help but wonder what the blonde meant by her muttered remark.

* * *

Almost the instant Peyton had stepped inside Clothes Over Bros, she knew that something was up. The apologetic expression on her best friend's face upon entering was a dead giveaway.

"What happened?" Peyton sighed.

"Millicent is out sick with food poisoning and I don't have anyone else to watch the store for the day," Brooke pouted. "I was really looking forward to helping you today, P. We hardly do anything together anymore."

"That's not true," the blonde denied with a shake of her head. When her best friend frowned at her in disappointment, Peyton couldn't help but doubt herself. "Is it?"

"We've both been pretty busy the last couple of weeks, so it's not all that surprising you failed notice," excused the other woman for her.

"Alright, we'll do something tonight then," Peyon groaned in defeat. "Just stop with the guilt trip already! You're acting like we don't see each other at home every night."

"Fine, fine, I'm done," she laughed. "Are you still going to check those other buildings out?"

"I don't really have much of a choice."

"Sorry, bud."

"For what? It's not your fault that Millicent got food poisoning, is it?" Peyton shrugged. "It would've been nice to have a second set of eyes though."

"The only person I can think of who'd be free is Nate," suggested Brooke.

"He's at his physio appointment right now, so that's a no-go," the would be producer shook her head. "I'll manage something, don't worry about it."

"I wish my mom was here," her best friend began, only for those hazel eyes to go round in horror. "And did I actually just said that?"

"Okay, while you come to terms with being a mama's girl-"

"Hey!"

"-I'm going to head out," a smirking Peyton finished, now walking toward the door. "Call me when you figure what you want us to do later."

"Good luck!" Brooke called out from the counter.

"Thanks!" she cried over her shoulder on the way outside.

Once she was back in her beloved Comet, which Peyton had just recently gotten back from her father, the blonde began the drive across town towards the first potential location for her fledgling record label. With the weather being so warm and clear today, Peyton had the Comet's top down so she could enjoy the pleasant summer breeze. A quick glance at the fuel gauge told her that she needed to fill up, and that's how the blonde found herself running into Lindsey outside of the nearest gas station.

"Hey, fancy meeting you here," a smiling Peyton greeted, sunglasses pushed up to rest on her forehead.

"Oh, hello, Peyton," the other woman returned with a genuine smile of her own. "What's up?"

"Gas station, car, you know how it goes," the blonde joked.

"No, I meant what are you up to," Lindsey shook her head at Peyton's antics.

"Just heading to the north end of town," she answered. "Going to look at some office space."

"Oh, that's right, Haley mentioned you were trying to start up your own label," her new friend nodded. "How's that going for you?"

"It's a bit rough going right now," admitted Peyton with a sigh. "I don't have a lot of capital, and I honestly don't know what I'm doing half the time." She frowned for a second before commenting. "Why is it every time we talk, I end up confiding in you?"

"I don't know," Lindsey shrugged. "Maybe I just have one of those trusting faces."

"Maybe you do," the blonde agreed with a soft chuckle. "Say, are you doing anything right now?"

"Not really," she answered. "Luke is at the school getting ready for practice and I'm done all my other editing work, so I went for a walk. Why? What'd you have in mind?"

"Well, since you're free, would you like to come with me?" Peyton requested, hopeful. "I really could use another person's input on this. And you seem to have a good head on your shoulders. What do you say?"

"I don't know how much help I can be," began Lindsey, only to brightly answer. "But since you asked me so nicely, I guess I can't say no, now can I?"

"Yeah, I suppose not," she grinned. "Feel free to hop in the passenger side while I go pay for the gas then we'll head over to the first place."

"Sounds good," the blonde heard Lindsey say from behind her on the way inside. As Peyton waited in line to pay the clerk, she glanced outside to see that the other woman was now happily chatting with the gas attendant. Peyton couldn't help but smile fondly at how adorable Lindsey looked, only to immediately reprimand herself for the unbidden thought.

"Will that be everything, miss?"

"What?" Peyton squeaked at the cashier before quickly recovering. "Oh, yes, sorry! I spaced out for a second there."

"Can't really blame you," the cashier remarked, a sly expression on his face. "She's pretty hot."

She narrowed her eyes at him, unamused by his leering. "How much do I owe you?"

"Twenty dollars," he answered, obviously taken aback by her annoyance.

"Thanks," she muttered before slapping a bill on the counter and walking out the door. Along the way to her car, Peyton forced herself to brush the cashier's comment before re-entering the vehicle. "You all set?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that? This is your shindig, after all," Lindsey returned.

"True enough," Peyton conceded while starting her car's engine.

* * *

It must have been only a few minutes after Brooke had finished up closing her boutique when Peyton and, surprisingly, Lindsey stumbled inside the door. Both women seemed to be in good spirits, which was throwing Brooke for a bit of a loop. Weren't these two supposed to be rivals?

One thing for certain, Peyton's claim of not wanting Lucas back was apparently looking more and more likely to the fashionista. That, or the blonde was in the process of some elaborate ploy to steal Lucas back.

No, that would be needlessly cruel. And while Peyton could be guilty of a lot of things, being needlessly cruel was not one of them.

"Hey, B," her best friend greeted, cheerful.

"I take it that things went well," she surmised.

"Oh, no," laughed Peyton. "It went horrible!"

"What?" Brooke frowned, curious.

"She means none of the locations panned out," Lindsey answered.

"I am very confused right now," the shorter brunette stated, her gaze now on her best friend. "What happened? And why do you two seem so happy if none of them panned out? Did the bank give you the loan even without a location?"

"Oh, we got a location," Peyton grinned, clearly ecstatic. "And yes, we got the loan, too! It's been a great day!"

"But if none of the locations worked out then-"

"Well, after we checked out all of the spots and none of them were good enough," explained the blonde. "Lindsey wanted to swing by Tric for some food before I dropped her off at home and headed over to the bank by myself."

"I like their buffalo wings," the taller brunette added with a shrug.

"They are pretty good," Peyton agreed.

"This story is getting very convoluted," Brooke complained, impatient.

"Okay, long story short," her best friend took the hint. "We ran into Lucas there and he suggested I use the extra space at the back of Tric since it's not being used for anything."

"Of course, it took all sorts of convincing on my part to get her to agree but in the end," an excited Lindsey grinned. "Red Bedroom Records is now a go!"

"Red Bedroom Records?" Brooke frowned.

"Yeah, that's what Peyton is calling it," she nodded, then turned to the blonde with a now uncertain expression. "Right?"

"It just came to me while I was talking to the loan officer," Peyton confirmed. "Anyhow, now that that's done, I figured we should all celebrate!"

"All?" Brooke's frown deepened at that.

"Yeah, this is something the whole gang should be a part of."

The fashion designer was tempted to protest about her previous plans of just hanging out alone and watching movies with her best friend but seeing how elated Peyton was right now, Brooke could not bring herself to do so.

"Alright, I'll text everyone and tell them what's up," Brooke relented. "Then we'll head home to change clothes before meeting up with the rest of gang at Tric. Does eight o'clock sound good?"

"Sounds good to me," Peyton agreed. "How about you, Linds?"

"I doubt it'll be a problem," the newest member to their circle of friends stated. "I do need a ride back home though. I am not going to the club in this sundress, thank you very much."

"But you look so adorable in it," the blonde smirked.

"Why thank you for the compliment, Miss Sawyer," Lindsey cooed in an exaggerated southern accent. "And I must say, you do look quite fetching yourself!"

"Well, I do try my best, Miss Strauss," Peyton returned with an equally exaggerated accent of her own. The two supposed rivals for Lucas Scott's affection shared a giggle, which was throwing Brooke for an even deeper loop than when they'd first entered her boutique. Ignorant of her best friend's plight, a grinning Peyton turned to Brooke. "I'm going to give Linds a ride home. Meet you back at the house?"

"Ah, yeah, sure," a stunned Brooke managed to say.

"Okay, see you then," the newly minted record producer happily chirped while now facing an equally jubilant Lindsey, her hand held out towards the door. "Shall we?"

"Yes, we shall," Lindsey agreed.

As they both exited Clothes Over Bros, the pair of women were completely unaware of the state they'd left their friend in. Brooke didn't know how long she'd just stood behind the counter all slack jawed but when the fashionista did finally recover, all she could think and say was one thing.

"What the hell is going on?"

 **It may not seem like it, but I do have a plot planned out. I'm just taking my time getting there. Please be patient with me. Reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading.**

 _Track 5: Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys_


	6. Don't Panic

**6 - Don't Panic**

"Alright, guys, settle down," Lindsey called out, a huge grin on her face. "I suppose a lot of you are wondering why Brooke and I asked you all to come out tonight, and it's my great pleasure to tell you that, as of this afternoon, our very own Peyton Sawyer has taken the first step in realizing her dream!"

"To Peyton!" Her assembled friends cried in semi-unison.

"Thank you, all of you," a grateful Peyton blushed. "But to be honest, none of this would even be possible without all of your support, so thanks again." She turned to her newest friend. "Special thanks goes Lindsey though because without her help today, we wouldn't even be celebrating right now."

"To Lindsey," Nathan shouted, which earned him a chuckle from everybody else. "What? I thought that's what we were doing!"

"Anyhow, thanks again for coming out tonight," Peyton continued like nothing had happened. "Now let's get this party started!"

With that all that said and done, a smiling Peyton headed over to where her newest friend now stood alone near the bar. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the stylish leather jacket over a dark purple strapless cocktail dress and matching heels. It was an odd combination but the woman somehow managed to pull it off with aplomb.

"Hey, new girl," the blonde greeted, her arm snaking around Lindsey's waist to pull the other woman into a hug. "Looking good."

"Well, aren't you all handsy after a couple drinks," the other woman laughed while reciprocating the hug. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you. Just an observation."

"It is what it is," Peyton shrugged. "Wanna dance with me?"

"Sorry but she's spoken for," Lucas joined them. He slipped in between Lindsey and Peyton, the latter of which was now disappointed by the loss of contact with the other woman. "Hey, babe."

"Right, sorry," a sheepish Peyton nodded, backing off as her ex-boyfriend kissed his current girlfriend on the cheek. "I'm going to go find Brooke."

"Peyton, wait," she heard Lindsey say but the blonde ignored her.

As she weaved her way through the crowd towards Brooke, who had somehow ended up on the other side of the club in the last two minutes, Peyton couldn't help but berate herself for her behaviour. She knew that it was wrong to feel hurt by what had just happened but that didn't change the fact Peyton felt that way. It was stupid. And even worse? She had no right to feel like this. Just because she'd spent the entire day with-

"Come on, you and I need to have a talk," a determined Haley James Scott stated, the young mother having appeared out of thin air. The surprised blonde began to protest but the firm grip that the shorter woman had on her forearm caused Peyton to hesitate.

"Damn, woman! What the hell is your malfunction?" she cried, twisting out of Haley's grasp once they were alone. "And why the hell is your grip so strong? I can barely feel my arm!"

"Quit whining and listen to me, because I am only going to say this once," Haley hissed, her hazel eyes narrowed up at the taller woman. "I don't really know what you're playing at, but I want you to stop it this instant!"

"Um, what?" Peyton frowned, thoroughly confused by whatever she was being accused of.

"Don't play coy, Peyton," she snapped. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, and I'll be damned if I let you come between Lucas and Lindsey!"

"I don't know wh-"

"Don't even try to deny it," an incredulous Haley cut in. "I saw the look on your face back there, and the way you practically ran off when Lucas showed up! And I'm warning you right here and now, back the fuck off!"

"Haley, you're one of my favourite people and I love you," a now very angry Peyton growled, desperately trying not to lose her temper. "But right now, I am very close to punching you in the face." She held her index finger up at the other woman's eye level. "For the record though, I no longer have any interest in Lucas. At least not in the way you're thinking. Now do us both a favour and mind your own damn business!"

"Whoa! What the hell is going on here?" Brooke stepped in between them. "You two need to settle down!"

"Just remember what I said," Haley warned before stalking away.

"Mind telling me what that was about?" Her best friend asked when they were alone.

"It was nothing," Peyton lied, not wanting to create further tension between the other two women. "Just a minor misunderstanding. It's not important."

"Peyton, that did not look like just a minor misunderstanding to me," an unconvinced Brooke stated.

"She thinks I'm trying to get Lucas back," the blonde while rubbing her forehead.

"And are you?"

"No," Peyton glared at her. "I have no interest in Lucas. Fucking. Scott."

"Alright, I believe you," Brooke held her hands up in surrender. "But you have to admit-"

"I don't have to admit anything because I did nothing wrong," she interrupted. "And I am starting to resent having to defend myself every damned time we're in the same vicinity as him!"

"Okay, fine, I'm sorry," the brunette apologized. "Just calm down, alright?"

"Look, I'm sorry, too," Peyton sighed, guilty for having lost her temper. "You know I don't mean to snap on you. Haley just got me wound up is all."

"Do you want me to ta-" Brooke began to say, only to be cut off mid sentence.

"Hey, guys," a timorous Lindsey greeted. "I saw what happened. Are you okay, Peyt?"

"I'm fine, Linds," the record producer smiled at her so-called rival. "Thanks for coming to check up on me though." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her left ear. "That's really sweet of you."

"Well, a lady does try her best," her newest friend returned the smile, a hand held out towards her. "So...?"

"So?" Peyton quirked an eyebrow, curious.

"I do believe you requested a dance earlier?"

"What about Lucas?"

"What about him?" Lindsey grinned, her hand still held out toward the blonde.

Unable to think of anything else to say, a now grinning Peyton grasped the offered hand and then allowed herself to be led out onto the dance floor.

* * *

"Okay, that's the second time today those two have done that to me," groused Brooke upon arriving at the bar, where she had joined up with a more than slightly inebriated Lucas. "Um, Luke, you're looking a little flushed there."

"I haven't eaten all day and I drank way too fast," he admitted, a bottled water in his hand. "But I've got my water here and some wings on the way, so I'm going to be alright."

"Good to know," chuckled the fashionista in relief.

"So you were saying something about 'those two' having done something to you for the second time today," Luke segued. "Who are those two, and what did they do?"

"Your girlfriend and your ex," she answered, leaning back against the bar. "It's like I wasn't even there, you know? Completely ignored."

"They do get along pretty well," he noted.

"And does that bother you?" Brooke glanced at him.

"I'd be lying if I said it didn't but what exactly am I supposed to do about it?" Lucas countered. "Besides, it's not like Peyton wants to be with me anyway."

"Oh, really," she raised an eyebrow in surprise at that. "Because everyone else seems to think otherwise."

"Well, everyone else is wrong," he scoffed after swallowing a swig of water. "You know that she was seeing someone back in LA, right?"

"Yeah," Brooke nodded while briefly trying to remember the guy's name. She recalled that Peyton had said it during her drunken breakdown when they first arrived in Tree Hill several weeks ago. "His name was Julian, wasn't it?"

"No, I'm pretty sure it was Charlie," Luke shook his head. "I could be wrong though, since I never met the guy. Regardless of his name though, Peyton was in love with whoever this guy was. Completely head over heels." He sighed in resignation. "At the time I thought she had cheated on me but now that I think about it, I don't think even she knew about how she felt until I showed up to propose to her."

"Oh, Luke, I'm so sorry," she patted his arm in sympathy.

"It is what it is," he shrugged. "Peyton and I are long over, and we'll never get another shot. And I'm okay with that."

"Are you really, Lucas?" Brooke asked, unconvinced.

"No, but I'm getting there," Lucas admitted with a sad smile. "Besides, most guys would kill to have their exes and current girlfriends to at least get along, right?"

"Right," she agreed despite not sharing that opinion at all.

"You know, I'm not feeling that great all of a sudden," he stood up to his full height. "I think I'll just grab a cab home. Tell Peyton congratulations again from me. Good night, Brooke."

"What about Lindsey?" Brooke asked.

"Let her have her fun," Lucas shrugged. "At least one of us should tonight."

"Oh, Lucas," the former cheerleader sighed while watching the first boy she ever loved walk out of the club. Her gaze then drifted to where Peyton was dancing and sharing a laugh with Lindsey.

And for the first time since they'd returned to Tree Hill, Brooke couldn't help but feel resentment towards her oldest and dearest friend.

* * *

"With the exception of Haley being a bitch, I have to say that tonight's celebration was one of our best," Peyton declared upon entering the home she shared with her best friend. "Don't you agree, Brooke?"

"Yeah, whatever you say, P," the brunette muttered, clearly annoyed about something.

"Okay, what's the matter?" she asked in concern.

"Nothing's the matter, I just want to go to bed now," Brooke answered, obviously lying.

"Brooke, come on."

"Drop it, Peyton," the shorter of them warned. "I'm not in the mood."

"Alright, now I really have to know," she insisted. "What's the matter?"

"You want to know what's the matter, Peyton? Fine, I'll tell you," Brooke snapped, her bag tossed onto the couch. "When I said that I wanted to do something tonight, I meant just us. You. Me. And that's it."

"That's what you're mad about?" Peyton scoffed. "If that's it, then we'll do that tomorrow night. It's not a big deal, B!"

"It is a big deal, Peyton," she cried, clearly angry with her best friend. "And do you know why it's such a big deal?"

"No, but I have a feeling that you're about to tell me."

"Do not get flippant with me, P Sawyer, because I have had it up to here with that crap!" Brooke shouted.

"Fine, I'm sorry!" Peyton rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, well, you should be sorry," she rallied forward. "I don't know what weird, twisted game you're playing with Lucas but you seriously have to cut that shit out because it's tearing him apart, P!"

"What the hell is with everybody thinking I want Lucas back? Hello, he proposed and, guess what? I said no! What more do you people want from me?"

"Maybe a little consistency in your actions would be nice," Brooke told her. "I mean, what exactly are you trying to pull by getting all buddy-buddy with Lindsey? What do you have to gain from it?"

"What do I gain from it? You mean other than a new, fun friend who doesn't judge me on my past?" Peyton cried, defensive. "If you, Haley or Luke have a problem with me being friends with Lindsey, then that's on you! Not me! Now I'm done talking about this, so if you have anything more you want to say, do me a favour and keep it yourself!"

Without another word, Peyton started towards her bedroom. She had made it halfway to the door when the next words Brooke said caused her to freeze dead in her tracks.

"Who's Charlie?"

 **Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated.**

 _Track 6: Don't Panic - Coldplay_


	7. Secret

_A/N - Sorry for the wait between chapters but, as I've stated before, I don't actually own a computer anymore, so updates will be sporadic at best. Thank you for your continued patience._

 **7 - Secret**

"Who's Charlie?" Brooke repeated, taking a step toward the shell shocked blonde.

"Who did you hear that name from?" Peyton whispered over her shoulder, only to shake her head immediately after. "No, never mind. I'm pretty sure I know who told you."

She took another step forward. "What does it matter who told me?"

"Because it seems like every time that I'm starting to reach some stable ground, Lucas Scott is there to rip it all away," her best friend muttered, who now was looking dangerously close to the devastated state she'd been in when they had first come back to Tree Hill. "I still have no idea how he even found out."

"Were you cheating on him?" Brooke pressed. As much as she hated to see her P Sawyer in pain, to be the cause of this pain, it was obvious this needed to play out. "P?"

"No," the blonde slowly shook her head again. Peyton then leaned against the back of the couch, her gaze now on the carpeted floor. "Yes."

"I don't understand," she took one last step to stand directly in front of Peyton. "What do you mean?"

"I may...may have nev-ver physically cheated on Lucas," an ashamed Peyton let out in a near sob. "But what...what I did was way worse."

"What did you do, Peyt?" Brooke whispered, now gently grasping the blonde by her wrists. "What did you do?"

"I fell in love with someone else," her best friend rasped, hands clasped together. "And not just anyone else either. I...um, I mean, damn it, why is this so hard to say?"

"What are you trying to say, P? Please, whatever it is, I promise you that I'll understand. That I won't get mad," she begged. "Just please, stop shutting me out!"

"Oh, you say that now," scoffed the blonde, who was still avoiding eye contact. "But I remember a time when you treated a certain spray painting incident as nothing more than a joke." She paused to take a steadying breath. "So forgive me if that comes off as me sounding paranoid but I went through a lot of crap to be with Charlotte."

"Charlotte? Who's Charl-" Brooke began, only to widen her eyes in surprise. "Oh."

"Yeah," Peyton whispered bitterly, a few tears escaping to tumble down her cheeks. "Now you know. Feel better?"

The fashionista released her hold on Peyton's wrists, then quickly pulled the blonde up from her seat against the back of their couch. "I'm sorry, Peyt. I'm so, so sorry."

"I miss her so much, Brooke," her best friend sobbed into her shoulder, now clinging to the brunette like a lifeline. "Why wasn't I good enough? Why did she leave me?"

"I don't know, P," a teary eyed Brooke reassured, clinging to the blonde just as hard. "But I'm not going anywhere. I've got you."

* * *

"So when did you know?" Brooke asked, the two women now seated on the sofa with the blonde leaning against the brunette.

"Know what?" Peyton returned, who was resting her head on Brooke's shoulder.

"About, you know, Charlie."

"Um, that's a tough question, Brooke," she answered. Peyton let out a tired sigh. "When I first met her, I didn't really think much about it. Yes, I thought she was beautiful. I mean, straight or gay or whatever, who wouldn't?"

"She's the girl from the photo album," deduced Brooke.

"Yeah," the blonde confirmed. "But those pictures don't do her justice. As photogenic as she is, Charlie was way prettier in person." Peyton shifted in her seat enough to look her friend in the eye. "But it was more than looks with her, you know? She just had this way about her."

"Hmm, hmm."

"Anyhow, from the moment we met, I knew she was into me," Peyton returned to her previous position. "She was super obvious but I didn't mind too much. She was a great listener, always willing to sit down and hear me bitch about whatever was bugging me."

"That explains the drop in phone calls," Brooke joked, half heartedly.

"You were busy and I didn't want to bother you," she stated. "Besides, half the time I called, I got your mom and you can guess how those conversations went."

"Sorry that you had to deal with that," her friend apologized.

"Pfft, I'm over it," Peyton lazily waved the comment off. "Not like she has any power over me. It's not like Victoria's my mom, is it?"

"No, I suppose not," Brooke chuckled. "Did you want to trade?"

"Tempting," she scoffed.

"Well, I tried," the other woman muttered in mock disappointment. "Anyway, when did you and Charlie become more than friends?"

"Right to the heart of the matter," Peyton remarked before continuing. "If I had to say for sure, probably about two months after Lucas proposed to me." She smiled at the memory. "She took me to see Dashboard Confessional. It was our first date."

"Wow, I guess she must have really liked you if she was willing to suffer through that," Brooke joked, only to yelp when the blonde slapped her leg. "Kidding! I was kidding, P! Sensitive much?"

"You're such a bitch sometimes," the taller woman laughed.

"What can I say? I learned from the best," she shrugged. "I mean, my mother, of course."

"Of course. What time is it, anyway?" Peyton stifled a yawn.

"Nearly two."

"I guess it's a good thing tomorrow is Saturday then," she groaned.

"Maybe for you but I still have to open the shop in the morning," Brooke complained, though her tone was light.

"In that case, we should probably head to bed," she rose from her seat. The other girl raised an eyebrow at that, which caused Peyton to roll her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"I know but it's so much fun to mess with you," Brooke shrugged, who had also risen from the sofa.

"It's good to see you taking this so well."

"You're my oldest friend, P," the brunette frowned. "Besides, how else am I supposed to act? Am I supposed to shun you? Toss you out of my life just because you happened to fall in love with a girl?" She scoffed. "If I was that homophobic then I have definitely chosen the wrong career!"

"Yeah, that never even occurred to me," a sheepish Peyton admitted.

"That's because you're a dummy," rasped Brooke before once more pulling her best friend into a tight hug. "I hate that you struggled with this for so long." Her voice broke for a moment. "Next time, just talk to me, okay? It's what I'm here for."

"I will," she promised, her voice tight from emotion as well. They separated then headed toward their respective bedrooms. When Peyton reached her doorway, she paused to look over to the stairway at her ascending roommate. "Hey, Brooke."

"Hmm?"

"That whole 'just come talk to me' thing? That works both ways, you know," she told the brunette, who had paused halfway upstairs.

"I know," Brooke nodded. "Good night, P."

"Good night, B," she returned, entering her bedroom.

* * *

Despite the late hour she'd gone to sleep, Brooke awoke surprisingly well rested the next morning. Maybe finally knowing some of what happened to Peyton in Los Angeles had something to do with it. Whatever the reason may be though, she felt invigorated and ready to face the day.

All that said, there were still many questions she wanted answered. What kind of person was this Charlie? What was it about this girl that caused Peyton to abandon Lucas in favour of her? And now that they were done, did that mean Peyton was still into girls? Or was Charlie a one-off? So many questions!

"Good morning, sleepy head," Brooke chirped upon entering her best bud's bedroom. "Up and at 'em!"

"I hate you," the hungover blonde groaned from under her pillow.

"That's a lie," she laughed. "Now get up. We're hanging out today, just the two of us."

"Don't you have a boutique to run?" Peyton complained, now sitting up.

"Yes, and you're going to help out!"

"I hate you!"

"There's a triple shot chocolate mochaccino in it for you," tempted Brooke.

"Fine," Peyton relented with a dramatic sigh, kicking off the covers. "Just let me take a quick shower first."

"You have ten minutes, P," she told her before leaving the room.

"I hate you," the blonde cried out.

Following a brief stop at a nearby Starbucks for Peyton's promised treat, the pair arrived at the boutique where they began to do inventory. Brooke had become so immersed in her work that she had forgotten about her questions until shortly after noon, and the fashion designer only remembered when a now familiar voice could be heard coming from the front.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Lindsey asked, obviously speaking to Peyton who'd volunteered to work the register.

"Well, a happy-happy to you, too," the blonde chirped back, which immediately put Brooke on alert for some reason.

"I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting to run into you," the other woman laughed.

"It's fine, I'm only helping out with the shop today while Brooke does inventory."

"Millicent's still out with food poisoning, I take it?"

"I'm assuming so," Peyton chirped in that same happy voice. It took Brooke a moment to recognize that tone but now that she did, there was no denying what the blonde was doing. She was flirting! Time to intercede.

"Hey, P, you ready to go?" Brooke stepped out from the back, pretending not to have noticed Lindsey yet. "I made us a reservation earlier, so we should-oh, hey, Lindsey! When did you get here?"

"Just now," Lindsey answered.

"Oh, damn, if I'd known you were coming, I would've made the reservation for three instead just me and Peyt," she apologized, hoping that it sounded sincere. "Sorry about that."

"No, it's fine," the taller brunette shook her head, disappointed but obviously trying to hide it. Now that was interesting! "Um, I just remembered that I have to go pick Lucas up from the school, so I wouldn't have been able to come along anyway."

"Again, I'm really sorry, Lindsey," Brooke apologized again. "Maybe next time?"

"Yeah, definitely," she agreed with a polite smile. As Brooke closely watched Lindsey turn to face Peyton, she hoped against hope that her suspicion was wrong. Unfortunately, if that shy little smile was any indication, Brooke was right. The attraction was definitely mutual. "I'll see you around, Peyt."

"See you around, Linds," the blonde waved at the other girl's back, her expression one of longing.

"Well then, that answers a whole lot of questions I still had from last night," Brooke declared.

"What?" Peyton frowned in bemusement.

"You like her," she clarified.

"What? No! I mean, yeah but not-," her best friend sputtered in denial, only to sigh in defeat. "Fuck. Am I that transparent?"

"Only if you know what I know."

"I hate this," she sighed again, a hand on her forehead. "Hopeless crushes suck."

"Wait, you don't see it?" Brooke raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"See what?" Peyton furrowed her brow, not following.

"Nothing, don't worry about it," the brunette shook her head. It wasn't Brooke's place to meddle with the situation any more than she already had. "Lunch?"

"Lead the way," the girl she'd known since age eight told her.

As she led her best friend out the door, a guilty Brooke hoped that staying silent was the correct course of action here. One thing for sure though was that Haley had been right in thinking Peyton would be a threat to Lucas and Lindsey's relationship, just not in the way she'd originally pointed out. Still Brooke was not at all looking forward that conversation.

What a mess.

 **Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated. See you next update.**

 _Track 7: Secret - Missy Higgins_


	8. Let It In

**8 - Let It In**

After Peyton had finally come clean to her best friend about Charlie, the blonde felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from her shoulders. And that relief really couldn't have come at a better time, what with how busy she would be in the following weeks. From dealing with the contractors working on her office to reconnecting with old contacts in Los Angles via telephone, Peyton had no time for any social distractions whatsoever. Aside from sharing an occasional meal with Brooke at home, the aspiring music producer couldn't remember the last time she spent a night out on the town with her other friends.

It was probably for the best though. She wasn't on the best of terms with Haley at the moment, which made it nearly impossible to visit either Nathan and Jamie. Mouth was busy with whatever it was he did at the local television station, while Skills had almost all his attention focused on coaching the Ravens alongside Lucas. And she definitely could not hang out with Lucas for obvious reasons, so that meant the blonde had no choice but to cut herself off from spending time with Lindsey. That last one stung a little bit since Peyton had grown very fond of her new friend.

"Stupid, hopeless crush," Peyton chided herself under her breath, not for the first time. Her gaze drifted from the ceiling of her just refurbished office to the clock on the wall, the chair she was seated in creaking under her weight as the blonde swivelled around to do so. After taking note of the time Peyton decided that she'd eventually have to drag herself out of the office and then back home, where she and Brooke would no doubt spend another hum-drum evening of eating take-out while they watched some bad television.

"So this is where you've been hiding yourself when you're not sponging off my daughter," a bored sounding Victoria Davis remarked from the doorway. "How quaint."

"Oh, goody, a visit from the Wicked Witch of the East," sighed Peyton in annoyance. "I wonder what I did to deserve such a privilege."

"You've always had quite the sharp tongue and disrespectful attitude, Peyton," Victoria rebuked upon entering the office. "That comes with the territory of growing up without a mother though, I suppose."

"It's something Brooke and I had in common growing up," she retorted. "But that's neither here nor there. What do you want, Victoria?"

"The direct approach it is then," the older woman stated, haughtily standing before Peyton's desk. "Brooke needs to stop this foolishness of trying to run a shop in Tree Hill and come back to New York with me. Immediately."

"And you're telling me this because..."

"Because, for some damned reason, my daughter listens to you," Victoria explained in exasperation.

"Brooke does what Brooke wants, regardless of what I say," Peyton scoffed. "But even if what you said was remotely true, why on earth would I ever help you? You are aware that I can't stand you, right?"

"Oh, you've made that abundantly clear over the years, Miss Sawyer," her best friend's mother returned. "But I had hoped that you actually had my daughter's best interests at heart. How disappointing to see that I was mistaken in that assumption."

"Sorry that you wasted your time coming here then," the blonde turned her back to Victoria in dismissal. "Don't let the door hit you when you leave."

"Your decor is tacky," Victoria sniped on her way out, which brought an ironic chuckle from Peyton. That petty bitch always had to have the last word. Man, Victoria must be really desperate if she'd come to Peyton for help. Good on Brooke for sticking to her guns but Victoria's appearance here could only mean one thing; she and Brooke had another argument. That meant her best friend was probably fairly upset right now.

"Better get home soon then," Peyton decided aloud, her concern for Brooke overriding whatever fatigue she'd previously been feeling.

Along the way outside Peyton paused at the bulletin board situated between her office door and the building's main entrance, where one of at least six identical pink flyers pinned up to the cork board had caught her attention. After some brief consideration, Peyton decided that it might come in handy and took one of the flyers before heading out the door.

* * *

Brooke paced back and forth between the kitchen and the living room, still irate at the argument she'd had with her mother some forty odd minutes ago. How dare that woman hold a meeting with the shareholders behind her back! How dare she!

"Damn her!" Brooke cried in frustration, only vaguely aware that her roommate had returned home.

"Let me guess," Peyton surmised. "You had another fight with your mom."

"I swear, P Sawyer, one of these days, that woman is going to make me snap," she told the blonde with cold, absolute sincerity. "And when I do, I may need you help me hide the body."

"There's an abundance of swamps to do that in the area, so it really shouldn't be that much of a problem," quipped Peyton. "Plus, the Comet has a pretty big trunk."

"Ungh, I'm just so pissed off at her right now," Brooke cried, her anger building up once more.

"Are there gators in North Carolina? I forget," the blonde pondered aloud. "I'm pretty sure there are but I'm not a hundred percent sure. I'd ask Haley except we're not on the best of terms right now and I wouldn't want to tempt her into feeding me to them if there are any, you know?"

"What the hell are you going on about, P?" she stared at Peyton, bemused by the other woman's babbling.

"Ah, nothing important," Peyton waved the question off. "So, did you want to do something different tonight? Because, let me tell you, I could use a break from our usual routine. What do you say, B?"

"I know what you're trying to do," Brooke began, only to immediately relent. "And, to be honest, I could do with a break from the norm, too. What'd you have in mind?"

Thirty minutes and an outfit change later had both women standing outside what was obviously a newly opened night club across town.

"What is this place?" Brooke inquired while they approached the building from its parking lot.

"Some dance club I found out about from a flyer," Peyton explained. "Other than that though, I don't know much. Figured we could use some fresh scenery though."

"Well, it definitely beats sitting at home, stewing in anger," she reasoned, already starting to cheer up.

"That's the spirit, B," her fair haired bestie gripped Brooke in a brief, affectionate one armed hug. "Now let's head inside and get our dance on, what do you say?"

Brooke smiled, "Lead the way, P."

As she followed her best friend towards the line up leading to the roped off entrance, Brooke couldn't help but take note on how several of their fellow club goers were sneaking glances at her and Peyton. While some were more discrete than others, there was no mistaking the fact that Brooke had been recognized. But why the fuss though? This was Tree Hill, her beloved hometown. Everybody here who knew who she was, more often than not, went about their own business without a second thought. This sudden interest from fellow locals made Brooke uneasy.

"Miss Davis," the female bouncer stationed at double doors called out when they got within earshot. "Why don't you and your friend jump on ahead and go inside?"

"See? I told you it was her!" One of the many women in line cried to another. "That's Brooke Davis!"

"Shh! Be quiet!" Her friend hissed back.

"Sweet! Let's go, B!" Peyton accepted the offer to jump the line, quickly grasping Brooke by the hand to lead the fashionista past the bouncer.

"Enjoy your night, ladies," the bouncer grinned at Brooke on their way past.

"Thanks, I guess," she returned, uncertain. It wasn't until Brooke was through the doors that she clued into why people had been staring at her and Peyton, the words causing the local celebrity's hazel eyes to go wide in surprise.

"Do you think that's her girlfriend?"

* * *

"Holy crap! This place is amaze balls!" Peyton cried in delight upon entering the club with her best friend in tow. "Brooke, look at-"

"You know, if you needed to get laid this badly, you could've just told me," Brooke cut in, clearly amused by something. "You didn't have to trick me into coming here with you. I would've just come along. I am and always will be your devoted wing woman, P."

"Uh, what?" she frowned at her friend, not following.

"You really don't know? Oh, that's even funnier!"

"Know what, Brooke? I am very lost right now," the blonde cried, utterly confused by the other girl's mirth. "What are you cackling about?"

"Look around us, P," she told her. "Notice anything?"

"What do you mean-" Peyton began, only to trail off at noticing that, other than a couple of bouncers, there was an entire lack of men inside the club. "Oh."

"Hee, you brought me to a gay bar," a smirking Brooke pointed out, quite unnecessarily.

"So that's what the flyer meant by 'alternative'," she slapped her forehead. "And here I was thinking they'd be playing Nirvana or something!"

"So..."

Peyton glanced at her friend. "So...?"

"See anyone you like?" Brooke teased.

"Brooke!"

"Ooh, how about the red head by the stage? She looks cute!"

"Stop it!"

"No? Then how about that one?" Brooke gestured to a rather attractive brunette seated alone at the bar. "She looks more your type, right? All tall, dark haired and-"

"If I go talk to her, will you quit being an idiot?" Peyton interrupted.

"Throw in a mojito and you've got yourself a deal there, missy," the fashion designer shooed her off. "Go get her, P Sawyer!"

Without another word, the now nervous music producer began her approach. It did not take Peyton more than a moment to reach the girl that Brooke had pointed out, who coolly gazed up at her with interest.

"Hi, I'm Peyton," she greeted.

"Hello, Peyton. I'm Avery," the girl returned with a polite smile, her soft British accent causing the blonde to become even more nervous. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Peyton returned, which was followed by the blonde just standing awkwardly there without a clue on how to proceed. "So..."

"So...?"

"Come here often?" Peyton blurted out without thinking, only to wince at how awful it must have sounded.

"Really?" Avery snorted back a laugh.

"I'm sorry, this is my first time in this sort of place," she began to say, then quickly amended her statement. "No, that's not quite true. I did go to a couple clubs when I was living in LA but back then I was seeing someone...and I'm going to shut up and leave now."

"No, stay," the other woman reached out to grasp her wrist so Peyton couldn't leave. "I think your cluelessness is about the most adorable thing ever. So please stay. Talk to me."

"Uh, sure, if you insist," the blonde agreed, sliding onto the stool next to Avery. After ordering three mojitos (one of which she stealthy had sent over for Brooke), Peyton spent the next half hour or so just chatting with the gorgeous British girl beside her. In fact, the two woman were hitting it off so well that Peyton had all but forgotten about Brooke until her best friend appeared to the left of her chair. "Hey, B, what's up?"

"Sorry if I'm interrupting but something's come up, P," Brooke apologized. "Don't worry, it's nothing major. I just got a call from Millicent, and I have to head to New York first thing in the morning. You good here?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Peyton smiled.

"I'll take good care of her," Avery promised.

"I'm sure you will," the former cheerleader quipped before departing. "Good night, you two!"

"So, that's Brooke Davis," Avery stated when they were once again alone. "I thought she'd be taller in person."

"I should probably be going, too," Peyton began, now feeling exposed without Brooke acting as her safety net.

"Well, you could do that," her companion demurred, her hand now clasping the blonde gently by the wrist. "Or, you know, we could share a nightcap in my hotel room?"

The next morning had a disoriented Peyton jolt awake in an unfamiliar bed, where the most comfortable satin sheets she'd ever slept on now caressed her naked skin with each one of her movements. She sat up to take inventory of the situation, her viridian gaze drifting from this thing and that around the room. When she was finished, Peyton realized that Avery had already left but not without writing a message in lipstick on the mirror.

 _Dearest Peyton,_

 _If you ever find yourself in London, please look me up._

 _XOXO Avery Chen_

With a soft laugh at how things had worked out, Peyton fell back into the satin sheets to bask in the moment before housekeeping would arrive to kick her out.

 **In my head, Avery looks suspiciously like Gemma Chan. Anyhow, thanks for reading and please remember to review. See you next update.**

 _Track 8: Let It In - Sam Roberts_


	9. Empty

**9 - Empty**

"I still can't believe you found her like that in your penthouse," Peyton marveled from beside her best friend, the two of them seated on the back balcony. "It's crazy."

"I know," Brooke agreed. "I'm still in a bit of shock about it, to tell the truth."

"I don't blame you," the blonde took a sip of her cola. "How long do you think Rachel was laying there before you showed up?"

"It can't have been very long," answered Brooke with a shake of her head. "At least, I hope it wasn't that long." The former cheerleader let out a ragged sigh, one that bordered dangerously close to a sob. "I keep thinking about how small she looked on the floor when I found her, then I think about what would've happened if I hadn't received that phone call about someone using the penthouse and I...fuck, Peyton, it was horrible!"

"But someone did call you, and you did find her in time," the other girl assured with a hand now resting on Brooke's forearm. "And that's what matters here, Brooke. You saved her life."

"She wouldn't have been in that position if I hadn't let Victoria talk me into firing Rach in the first place," a guilt ridden Brooke rasped, not for the first time. "God, it's all my fault."

"How were you to know this would happen, Brooke?" Peyton implored. "You're not a psychic, so there's no way you-"

"I knew she had a drug problem, P," she cut in. "I knew Rachel was drowning and needed help but I didn't do anything because I was too afraid to speak out against my mother!"

"Hey, I get that you're angry with yourself, but there's nothing you can do to change the past," the blonde told her. "You want to make it up to her now? Then you keep doing what you're doing. You help Rachel get back on her feet, like you helped me, and I guarantee that everything will work itself out in the end, okay?"

"I really hope you're right, P," a resigned Brooke sighed before glancing sidelong at her oldest friend. "Hey, I almost forgot to ask; how did things go with that girl? Are you going to see her again?"

"You mean Avery?" Peyton blushed, which was a dead giveaway to her first question. "It went well, I suppose."

"I'm assuming you went back to her place afterwards," she smirked at how flushed the blonde was now getting. "And seeing how red your face is now, I'm assuming things went more than just 'well'."

"Yeah, I suppose you could say that," the other woman smiled.

"So?" Brooke pressed, curious.

Peyton frowned. "What?"

"Are you going to see her again?" she asked in exasperation.

"Oh, no," she shook her head. "Probably not."

"What? Why not?" Brooke furrowed her brow.

"Well, seeing as she lives in London," Peyton began, only to leave it at that.

"Aw, that's too bad."

"Not really," shrugged the blonde. "I mean, Avery was great and if I saw her again, I would definitely be tempted to make things work but-"

"Brooke?" Rachel called out in a weak voice, barely audible from where she and Peyton were relaxing. "Are you out here?"

"Yeah, be right there, Rach," Brooke replied with an apologetic glance at Peyton.

"Go, I'll be fine by myself," Peyton assured with an understanding smile.

"Are you sure?"

"I've got my cola and an amazing view of the harbour, so yeah, I'm good," she raised her cup.

"Don't think we're done talking about your new paramour, P," Brooke told the blonde while rising out of her chair. Without waiting for a response, she joined Rachel at the back doors where the redhead was waiting. The two then entered the house together. "Hey, what's up? You alright?"

"Better than when I first got here," Rachel half-croaked. Brooke really wished the former model would've gone to the hospital but Rachel absolutely refused, even threatening to disappear again once she was well enough. As a compromise, a reluctant Brooke brought her troubled friend into her home. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Staring."

"Sorry," Brooke apologized.

"Whatever," the redhead rasped barely above a whisper. "Can't really blame you. I'm a mess."

"Rach-"

"Anyway," she shook her head. "I need to take a shower. Where did you say the towels were, again?"

"Come on, I'll show you," Brooke waved the redhead to follow. After having shown her troubled friend what she'd asked, Brooke returned to find Peyton on her cellphone.

"I don't know, I'm kind of settled in for the night already but if you think they're worth some consideration, I'll come check them out later," she answered whoever was on the other end of the call. "Yeah, I'll ask Brooke if she wants to join us." Beat. "Okay, see you then, Haley. Bye."

"You patch things up with Haley?" Brooke asked while settling back into her deck chair.

"No, not really," Peyton shook her head, cellphone now returned to her pocket. "But I think this is her reaching out, you know? At least, I hope it is."

"You know I can't come along, right? I'd rather not leave Rachel alone."

"I figured as much," her best friend nodded in understanding. "I should probably go get ready. Don't want to keep Hales waiting too long, do I?"

"No, you do not," she agreed.

"You're the best, Brooke," Peyton affectionately grasped the brunette's shoulder after having risen from her deck chair.

"Thanks," rasped Brooke to her departing friend, already missing her best friend's company.

* * *

"They're not bad," an appreciative Peyton noted aloud. "A little rough around the edges but there's definitely something there."

"I know, right? I mean, when Haley and I came here earlier during their first set, she said pretty much the same thing," an excited Lindsey agreed, very much acting like an eager child. "That's why I had her call you!"

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," the blonde smiled at her newest friend.

"Well, I do have a sparkling personality, so I can't really blame you," her so-called rival joked. "Although, your disappearance act over the last couple of weeks was a tad vexing, to say the least."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Peyton apologized with a sheepish shrug. "I was just super busy with getting the studio set up, and-"

"No need to explain, Peyt," Lindsey tilted her head slightly to the side, an action that caused her to appear adorable to the taller woman. So much so that Peyton had to shake her head at the thought. Lindsey must have noticed because her features quickly became quizzical. "What's the matter?"

"It's nothing," she lied, hoping that Haley would return with their latest round of drinks already. Despite having not seen her ex-boyfriend's current significant other in weeks, Lindsey seemed to be having the same damned effect on the smitten Peyton as before. No, that wasn't true. This was somehow worse than before! What the hell was up with that? "I'm just tired is all. Crazy hours and all that, you know? Heh, heh."

"If you say so," a skeptical Lindsey gave her a sideways glance.

"What'd I miss?" Haley asked upon her return with their drinks.

"They're still in the middle of their second set," Peyton told the young mother, who handed off their drinks. "Thanks."

"No problem," she smiled. "Next round's on you though."

"Fair enough."

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask how far along you are with the studio," Lindsey piped in, her face alight with expectation.

"The crew just finished it a couple of days ago. Did you wanna see?" Peyton offered with a genuine smile, unable to resist her new friend's not so subtle request. It was one of the most adorable things Peyton had ever seen. How could she say no to that?

"What about the band?" Haley questioned, now barely audible over said band's blaring music.

"It's still early yet, come on," she motioned in the general direction of the doors leading to her label's office.

"What about our drinks?" Peyton heard the shorter woman squeak, only to stifle a laugh at Lindsey's quick suggestion to guzzle them.

Once they made it through the crowd and down the hallway, Peyton unlocked the door before ushering the other two inside.

"Wow, you can barely hear anything coming from next door," Lindsey marvelled.

"Just you wait, we haven't even reached the rooms that've been fully soundproofed yet," Peyton told her.

"This must have put you back quite a bit," stated Haley.

"Yeah, I'll probably be in debt for some time but no more than if I'd actually bothered to attend college," the blonde agreed. "Once I sign an artist or two, and more people start booking studio time, I should be all set financially. At least, in the foreseeable future, that is."

"I'm assuming the studio is further in the back?"

"You assume right, Hales," Peyton waved for them to follow. "Come on."

"This is so exciting," she heard Lindsey say to Haley. "I've never been in a music studio before!"

"You're adorable," the blonde remarked, only to stiffen at the realization that she'd said that out loud. Before either of them could respond, Peyton urged the two women ahead. "Anyway, here we are. In you go!"

"Door's kind of narrow," Lindsey remarked on her way past.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Peyton returned, her gaze only briefly on the doorframe before shifting it onto the other woman's bare shoulders. Wait, when did she take her jacket off? Damn, she has amazing skin! Oh shit, she was staring ag-

"You and I need to have another talk," Haley said in no uncertain terms, completely derailing the music producer's train of thought.

"Haley-" she began to protest.

"It won't be like last time, I promise," the newly certified teacher assured her while following Lindsey. "No shouting."

"Not like anyone would hear us if we did," muttered Peyton under her breath, not at all looking forward to that conversation. After spending a moment to gather her thoughts, Peyton shook her head and followed the other two women inside, who were now in the midst of a minor disagreement.

"You promised not to cause a scene," she heard Lindsey chide the shorter woman.

"And I'm keeping that promise," Haley retorted, calm. "I just need to have a quick word with her, okay?"

"I mean it, Haley," her so-called replacement warned the shorter woman, her back to the blonde. "Other than you, and maybe Brooke, Peyton is my only friend in Tree Hill and this is the first time I've got to hang out with her in weeks. So-"

"Hey, guys," Peyton cut in before things could escalate. "Everything good here?"

"Everything's great," Haley turned to face her. "Right, Lindsey?"

"Yeah, everything's great," Lindsey agreed with an obviously forced smile. "Just great."

"Alright then, let's head into the main booth," Peyton led them through the first of two doors where the recording equipment was setup. "Nothing all that special here, just the usual mixing consoles and such. And-"

"Jeez, how many instruments do you have in there?" she cried out, her gorgeous blues eyes wide. "Are those bongo drums?"

"Yes, they are," nodded Peyton.

"I'm going to check them out," Lindsey declared.

"That was subtle," deadpanned Haley once they were alone in the booth. Before she could say anything, her friend turned to regard Peyton with a knowing smile. "So, Brooke mentioned when I stopped in over lunch today that you're seeing someone new."

"Brooke's only half right," Peyton denied with a shake of her head while laying a hand down on a nearby console. "Like I told her before I came here, that was just a one time deal. Besides, the commute between here and London would be a killer. I don't do long distance relationships anymore. Too much hassle."

"So does this mean you might still try to be with Lucas then?" Haley accused with disappointment lacing her voice.

"No, I have no interest in Lucas anymore," she sighed, already annoyed with this entire encounter. "And I'm tired of having this same argument with you, Hales. What more do I have to do in order for you to finally believe me?"

"I want to believe you, Peyton, I really do, because I hate fighting this same fight over and over, too," the shorter woman run a hand through her hair. "And if it was any other person saying what you're saying, I would totally believe them but you're Peyton and he's Lucas, and-"

"Do you want to know why I said no when Lucas proposed to me?" Peyton cut in, deciding that there was no other way to convince her friend than telling Haley the whole truth. Damned stubborn woman was like a fricking honey badger! Better to get this out in the open between them and be done with it. She was sick of being on bad terms with one of her dearest friends. And if Haley reacted badly to this revelation as well, then so be it. Peyton would still have Brooke in her corner. She didn't need anyone else. "Just know, that once I tell you this, I don't want to hear another word about me trying to steal Lucas back. Agreed?"

"Alright, I'm listening," Haley nodded, arms crossed over her chest. Despite being determined to clear the air with Haley, she did not quite know where to begin. After another moment, Peyton could see that her friend was getting impatient. "Well?"

"Well, I'm trying to find the right words, so gimme a sec, will you?" Peyton begged, her hand once more resting on the nearby console.

"Just say the first thing that comes to mind, Peyt-"

"I'm gay."

"What?" Lindsey's voice echoed from inside the recording booth, her blue eyes wide in surprise.

"Shit," the blonde swore, now removing her hand from the console like it was on fire. As sea green eyes met pale blue through tempered glass, Peyton could see panic in the other woman's gaze and it confused the hell out of her. What confused her even more though was how quickly Lindsey had shot out of the room, her swift egress catching both Haley and Peyton completely off guard.

"I'll go check on her," Haley began to follow after, only to stare back at the blonde for a moment. "You're gay? Really?"

"Yes, really," Peyton huffed.

"We are so not done talking about this," her friend promised while on her way out the door, though her tone was more one of a concerned friend than anything else.

"Of course not," a now solitary Peyton said to the booth ceiling.

* * *

"What the hell?" Brooke jolted awake to discover herself on the couch, the sudden light from the now turned on living room lights causing her to squint. "Peyton?"

"Hey, sorry, I didn't know you were there," her best friend apologized. "Why are you sleeping on the couch?"

"I was watching tv and I must have conked out," she answered then took notice that said television was now off. And a blanket was laid on top of her. Huh, weird.

"You need to slow down, Brooke," Peyton advised, now seating herself in the space next to her. "You're burning yourself out."

"Says the girl whose been pulling fourteen hour days for the last six weeks," the fashion designer rubbed her eyes. "What time is it?"

"About eleven thirty, I think," the blonde stated, her bare feet now situated on the coffee table. "Wanna know how my night went?"

"Sure, why not," a yawning Brooke agreed, leaning against the other girl's shoulder. "Did you clear things up with Hales?"

"To an extent," Peyton said, unsure.

"What do you mean to an extent?" she prodded, her hazel eyes fluttering in a desperate but failing fight against sleep.

"Well, I think she's finally gotten it through her head that I don't want Lucas back," the blonde continued.

"Why's that? Did you finally decide to come out to her?" Brooke mumbled while cuddling against her very warm best friend.

"Pretty much."

"Okay, I'm awake now," she sat up, her attention now fully on the blonde. "Tell me exactly what happened." When Peyton was finished with her story, Brooke leaned back to stared up at the ceiling. "So you're saying that Haley seemed to take it well but Lindsey bailed?"

"Totally," a crestfallen Peyton muttered, somewhat bitter as well.

"You really like her." It wasn't a question but a stated fact.

"Yeah, I do," the blonde admitted, not for the first time. "Not that it matters."

"How so?" Brooke glanced sidelong at her best friend.

"I mean, not only is she obviously straight," she elaborated. "But from her reaction to finding out that I'm gay, I think she might be a tad homophobic."

"That, or this girl is totally into you," Rachel commented from behind them.

"Jeez, how long have you been lurking there?" Peyton complained, both her and Brooke staring back at the former model incredulously.

"Long enough to know that you're gay and into some girl whose name I didn't catch," the redhead shrugged. "I just came down to see what all the noise was about. I had no intention on eavesdropping."

"Whatever, I'm too exhausted to care right now," the blonde rolled her eyes. "I'm going to bed. Good night, B."

"Good night, P," Brooke returned. Once they were alone, she frowned at Rachel with disapproval. "Seriously?"

"Okay, I see that you're still way too overprotective of Little Miss Emo Barbie there," the redhead remarked. "What's up with that?"

"She's my best friend," stated Brooke.

"Are you sure that's all she is?" Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"You sound like a jealous girlfriend," she scoffed. "You know that, right?"

"So what if I do?" Rachel challenged.

"Go back to bed, Rach," Brooke told her newest house guest on her way past toward the stairs. "You're obviously delirious from lack of sleep."

"You're no fun at all, Davis," the redhead sighed in disappointment at Brooke not taking the bait. "No fun at all."

Once she was alone in her bedroom, Brooke laid down on her bed with her gaze glued to the ceiling. Rachel's accusation of Peyton being more than just her best friend rung in her ears because it wasn't completely off the mark. Of course, Peyton was more to her than that. No one in the world mattered more to Brooke than the oft sullen blonde she'd known since they were both eight years old. Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer was her sister not by blood but, more importantly, by choice.

Why else would Brooke drop everything in New York City to come running back to Tree Hill on Peyton's behest? But even Peyton would someday leave Brooke's side in her own pursuit of happiness. And who was Brooke to blame her for doing so? What right would she have to deny Peyton that?

Unwelcome and unbidden, Brooke wiped away the bitter, lonely tears that came to her hazel eyes, knowing full well that this was a battle she could not hope to win. And like so many nights before, Brooke eventually relented before silently crying herself to sleep.

 **Once again, thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated. See you next update**.

 _Track 9: Empty - Metric_


	10. Worn Me Down

**10 - Worn Me Down**

"Alright, guys, one more time from the top," Peyton told the band inside the recording booth.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jason cried, incredulous. "That was perfect! Just like all the other takes, it was perfect!"

"From the top," she repeated, once again rolling her eyes in annoyance. Working with this egotistical jackass was really trying her patience. So much so that if he kept up with his prima donna behaviour for much longer, Peyton swore to whichever deity who might be listening that she would wring the narcissistic singer's neck until his head popped clean off!

"Maybe we should call it a day," suggested Haley from the chair next to the blonde, her hand now lain on Peyton's forearm to calm the clearly irritated record producer. "We'll pick it up first thing tomorrow, okay?"

"Fine, that's a wrap for today," Peyton agreed with a tired groan. "Be here at eleven tomorrow."

"Finally!" Jason cried out before bolting out the door, once again leaving his band mates to deal with breaking down their set.

"That guy is a freaking tool," Haley sneered, stating in no uncertain terms how she felt about the now absent singer. "I swear, if he calls you a rank amateur again, I'm going to rip his damned head off."

"Not if I do it first," muttered Peyton in pure exasperation. "We've been at this for days, and that arrogant dick simply refuses to take any constructive criticism whatsoever. It's so frustrating."

"You're close to giving up on them," her friend stated.

"Yeah, I am," she confessed. She did not like the idea at all but considering how utterly uncooperative Jason had been from the get go, she saw no other choice except to cut the band loose.

"That sucks," Haley commiserated. "Don't give up on them yet though. You'll figure out what made you think it was worth taking a chance on them in the first place, then you can focus on that and get them on track."

"You really think so?" Peyton raised an eyebrow, ever the skeptic.

"I know so," the young mother nodded before rising from her chair. "I need to get home now. Carrie is making lasagna, which is amazing and it's probably the only reason I haven't fired her yet."

"That and she's great with Jamie," Peyton pointed out, only to quickly add. "But, yeah, that girl gives me the creeps."

"I know, right? Why are you the only other person who gets that vibe off her?" Haley cried to which the blonde only gave a shrug in response. "I don't get it!"

"Who knows?" Peyton got up from her seat as well. "Anyway, thanks for dropping by the last couple of days, I really appreciate the help."

"No problem," her friend smiled. "It's not like I had a lot to do with classes being out for the week." She paused. "That said though, I won't be able to help out as much until the end of the school year. Sorry."

"You've already been a huge help, so no apologies needed," laughed Peyton. The two hugged before Haley left for home, which now left Peyton alone in the studio. With nothing else left to do, she decided to close up shop for the day. About halfway through turning off the recording equipment though, her eyes were drawn to how one of the microphones were still picking up sound from inside the booth. Curious, she slowly raised the volume to listen.

 _"...kindly unspoken,_

 _You show your emotion,_

 _And silence speaks louder than words,_

 _It's lucky I'm clever,_

 _'Cause if I didn't know better,_

 _I'd believe only that which I'd heard..."_

"Oh, wow," Peyton remarked in awe. The girl was good. Like, really good. What was her name again? Mia, wasn't it? Who would've thought that the shy girl on keyboards was the real talent in this band? Now that she thought about it, Peyton realized that Jason always seemed to be on the timid young woman's case for one thing or another. Was that because he noticed it, too? Breaking the girl out of her shell would be tough if that was the case. Peyton wondered how long that jackass had been suppressing the poor girl's development before now. Well, that was about to change!

Without giving it a second thought Peyton entered the recording booth to join the younger woman, who visibly jolted up in surprise at the sudden disturbance.

"Miss Sawyer," Mia stood up, clearly uncomfortable.

"Please, call me Peyton," she replied. "I'm not _that_ much older than you, you know."

"Peyton, right," the timid keyboardist glanced downward. "Sorry."

"It's not that big of a deal," Peyton assured, wanting to get the younger woman to relax. If she was able to win Mia's trust, it would go along way to salvaging the band's chances at reaching the next level. "I was just closing up the studio when I noticed you still here-"

"Oh, well, I'll just go then," Mia began to gather her things up in a rush.

"No, Mia, that's not what I meant," she sighed. Luckily this seemed to catch the younger woman's attention, her big brown eyes now regarding Peyton with cautious curiosity. "So, anyway, I heard you playing. You're really good. Did you write that?"

"What's it matter? We both know Jason writes all our music," Mia muttered, her bitterness obvious as she once again began to gather her belongings.

"What if I could change that?" Peyton put forth, her hand now lain atop the girl's forearm. The young keyboardist met her gaze with a momentary glint of hope, which was quickly followed up by a shake of her head.

"Never going to happen," Mia stated with sad certainty. "He'd kick me out of the band before even entertaining your idea." She gently pushed passed the blonde, an apologetic smile on her lips. "Thanks though, I appreciate the compliment, Miss Sawyer."

"It's Peyton," she softly corrected the younger woman, though Peyton doubted Mia had heard her since she was already out the door. It was probably a full thirty seconds before Peyton slapped her open palm hard against the piano top in frustration. "Damn it."

* * *

"What?" Brooke blinked, taken off guard by what her mother had just asked.

"You heard me," the odious woman rolled her eyes in impatience, who was now tapping her thigh with what looked like a rolled up newspaper. "When you were going to tell me you were a lesbian, Brooke?"

"I'm not a lesbian," she scoffed in amused denial.

"Oh, really? Then how do you explain this, hmm?" Victoria unrolled the newspaper before holding it out to her daughter.

"Brooke Davis, Out & About In Tree Hill," she read the headline aloud, only to furrow her brow at the picture below that showed Brooke entering a dance club hand-in-hand with her best friend. "Huh, it must've been a pretty slow news day."

"Is that all you have to say about it, Brooke? Really?"

"People are going to think what they want to think," Brooke shrugged while handing the tabloid back to her mother. "And what does it matter if I am what they think I am or not? Let them speculate. I know who I am, and that's all that matters."

"If you were a normal girl living your life out here in the sticks like you were in high school, then I would totally agree with you, my darling daughter," Victoria told her in a clipped tone. "But that's not you. Not anymore. You are the head of a multinational corporation with all the responsibilities that come with that title. You can not afford to look bad in any way, shape or form."

"And that's all matters to you, isn't it? What the shareholders think is more important to you than me, your daughter, possibly being gay," she accused.

"The gender of whoever you take in your bed does not matter to me," the older Davis stated. "What does matter is how this will affect your future and the future of our company. Don't be naive, Brooke. What the general public think of you eventually affects how our shareholders view us. If this isn't handled as soon as possible, it could be a huge public relations disaster!"

"Then what would you suggest I do about it, _mother_?" Brooke demanded, the last word said in the most condescending tone she could muster.

"Tomorrow morning, you will release a statement to the press," her mother dictated, once again tapping the now folded-in-half tabloid against her thigh. "You will neither confirm or deny the allegations made by whoever leaked these photos. You will also request that the press respect your privacy from now on."

"That's actually good adv-" Brooke began, only to be cut off.

"Then you will return to Manhattan with me, where you will be attending several events on the arm of a-"

"Absolutely not," the younger woman all but snarled.

"Brooke, be reasonable," Victoria sighed as though her daughter was a mere child in the middle of a tantrum.

"I thought you said that the gender of whoever I take in my bed didn't matter to you," she pointed out.

"And it still doesn't," she answered. "Nor will it ever be a matter of contention." Victoria took a step nearer. "But I'll be damned if my only daughter slums it with gutter trash like Peyton Sawyer."

"Get out before I throw you out," a now shaking with rage Brooke warned.

"I'm just-" her mother started to say.

"I think you've said enough, Victoria," Peyton interrupted from the doorway. "Now go before _my girlfriend_ slaps the shit out of you."

"Fine," Victoria backed down, knowing that she'd been beaten. "Just release that statement in the morning. We'll worry about the rest later." As she reached Peyton along her way out, she looked the blonde up and down with obvious distain. "She could do so much better than you."

"Oh, probably," Peyton agreed, mockingly so. "But she chose me. Ta-ta, _mommy dearest._ "

Unable to come up with a witty rejoinder, Victoria haughtily turned her nose up and walked out.

"Was that really necessary, P?" Brooke chided when they were alone.

"No, but after what she called me, bitch is lucky that pretending to be your girlfriend is all I did," the blonde sneered.

"I guess that's something then," she sighed, still trying to come down from her anger. "I swear, one of these days, P Sawyer..."

"...pow, straight to the moon," her best friend finished.

"Straight to the moon," Brooke agreed.

* * *

After the confrontation with her best friend's mother, Peyton realized that she'd forgotten her house keys at the studio and left Brooke to go retrieve them.

During the entire drive back to Red Bedroom Records, Peyton could not help but think about the very heated argument she'd walked in between the Davis women. When Brooke filled her in on the details, the blonde felt a bit guilty for being, at least, partially responsible for their argument. After all, it was her idea to take Brooke to that club where they'd been photographed by some random paparazzi. Sure, all Brooke did once inside the club was sip on mojitos all night while acting as Peyton's morale support, but that was besides the point!

"Now where did I leave them?" Peyton muttered to herself under her breath once she was back inside the studio. She swiftly located the wayward keys, which were in her office, then headed towards the exit. As she was locking up the studio once more, Peyton could feel another person's presence from behind her. Before the blonde could warn whoever it was lurking to back off, a familiar voice caught her attention.

"Hey, Peyton."

"Lindsey?"

"Yeah," the other woman waved. "Do you have a minute?"

"Uh, sure," Peyton answered, despite her own misgivings on doing so. "What's up?"

"I don't want to talk about it out here," she replied, uneasy. "Is there someplace we can go? Like a restaurant? Or a diner?"

"I know a place," the blonde nodded, now very curious and concerned by Lindsey's behaviour. This wasn't like her newest friend to act so subdued. Something was definitely on the book editor's mind. "Let me finish this up then we'll go."

"Alright," Lindsey agreed, awkwardness coming off her in waves.

It didn't take long for Peyton to finish closing up the studio, and with the place she had in mind for their conversation being just two blocks away, she decided that they'd walk there instead of driving. That said though, she still had to grab her wallet from the Comet since that's where her money and debit card were located. With that done Peyton led the other woman down the street towards their destination, which was a quiet little pub that she and Brooke sometimes frequented when their busy schedules could allow it. Lindsey followed mutely behind, the two of them taking a booth near the back.

"This place is nice," Lindsey politely commented, still clearly wrapped up in her own head.

"I like it," agreed Peyton, who flagged down a nearby waitress.

"Oh, hello, Peyton," the young blonde waitress greeted happily. "Been a while since you came around. How's Brooke? Still killing it in the fashion world, I take it?"

"That she is," Peyton returned with a friendly smile. "How's business, Chloe?"

"Bangin'," she answered with a flirtatious toss of her ponytail. "What can I get you two?"

"Just a couple of the cheapest draft you got for now," Peyton ordered with a quick glance at the distracted Lindsey. "Though if you have a basket of those jalapeño poppers laying around, that'd be great."

"Coming right up, doll," Chloe winked before sauntering off.

"Laying it on a little thick there, weren't you?" Lindsey asked once they were alone.

"Problem?" Peyton returned, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

"No, not really," she sighed, obviously lying.

"Alright then," the record producer nodded, choosing to ignore whatever the hell that little display had been. For now. "What did you need to talk about?"

"I need some advice," her friend began, only to hesitate and avert her gaze while muttering something under her breath.

"I'm sorry, Linds, but I didn't catch that last part," she frowned.

"I said, I need some advice about Lucas," Lindsey repeated, her winter blue gaze now meeting Peyton's own sea foam coloured irises.

"Ah, I guess this explains why you've been all fidgety since we met up," Peyton remarked.

"This isn't easy for me, Peyton," the book editor told her. "But to be honest, there isn't anybody else I could go to who'd be of any help." She gazed earnestly at the woman across from her. "No one knows Lucas better than you do."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Linds," Peyton shook her head. "It's been what? Three? Four years since we were together? We're barely friends now, so I don't know how much help I could possibly be where Lucas is concerned."

"Please, Peyt? I wouldn't even be here if this wasn't important," Lindsey begged while grasping the blonde by the hand, her eyes round in desperation. "Please?"

"Here you go, you two," Chloe arrived with their order. As the bubbly waitress placed the two beers and a small basket of food down, Lindsey swiftly pulled her hand away from Peyton's like it was on fire. It was the opposite of subtle. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt!"

"It's fine, really," Lindsey fumbled to get up from her seat. "Um, washroom?"

"Over there, passed the bar," their server pointed out for her.

"Right, thanks," the editor rushed away towards whatever sanctuary the washroom could provide.

"I'm really sorry, Peyton," Chloe apologized again when they were alone. "That was so stupid of me! You two were having a moment and I completely blew it for you!"

"No moment, no problem," Peyton shook her head. "It's fine. We're just friends."

"Oh, so you're not on a date then?"

"Uh, no," she shook her head again.

"Are you sure? Because I was getting a vibe," the younger blonde pressed.

"No, she has a boyfriend," Peyton explained with yet another shake of her head. Really, if she shook head any more tonight, the record producer could probably be mistaken for a bobble head at this point.

"Oh, so you'll be free later then? Say, in about an hour?" Chloe grinned. "We could go dancing, maybe see where the night takes us..."

"Any other night, I'd be game," the older blonde excused. "But my friend needs to talk, and it seems pretty important, so-"

"Rain check then," the waitress smiled before leaving the booth.

"Yeah, rain check," Peyton muttered under her breath while bringing the glass mug up to her lips. She had finished half of her beer and eaten a decent portion of the jalapeño poppers when Lindsey finally returned. "All good?"

"All good," she confirmed. "Where'd your admirer go?"

"She had other customers," Peyton answered, a little confused by the cattiness in her friend's tone. "You sure that you're alright?"

"You know what? This was a mistake," Lindsey stood up, clearly upset. "I'm leaving. Go talk to your little girlfriend."

"What the hell?" Peyton cried, taken off guard by this sudden development. That moment of surprise evaporated though to be quickly replaced by outright annoyance at being ditched. Crush or not, Peyton was not letting Lindsey get away with this. Not without at least giving the girl a piece of her mind first. With this decision made Peyton dropped thirty dollars on the table then chased after her ex-boyfriend's current girlfriend. It did not take long for her to catch up with Lindsey, who looked genuinely startled at having been followed down the empty street.

"Peyton, wh-"

"Just what the fuck is your problem, Strauss?" Peyton demanded, now more than willing to let all of her frustrations out.

"I don't have a problem," Lindsey denied, her eyes wide in fear.

"Oh, really? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you have a huge problem with me," she ranted. "Ever since you found out I was gay, you've been avoiding me! And that's fine, I thought maybe you just needed time to get used to it. Whatever. And I was willing to let that slide, but what you pulled back there was unacceptable!"

"I'm sorry," sniffled Lindsey, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I'm really sorry."

The sight of the other woman on the verge of sobbing utterly robbed Peyton of whatever righteous anger she'd been ready to unload on her. In another shocking twist, Lindsey pulled the blonde into her arms. Not knowing what else else to do, Peyton simply allowed it to happen as the other woman began crying into her shoulder.

"Shh, shh, it'll be okay, Linds," Peyton soothed while rubbing her distraught friend's back. "Whatever it is, it'll be okay. I'm right here."

Instead of helping calm Lindsey down as intended, Peyton's words of reassurance seemed to make the girl in her arms cry all the more harder.

* * *

 **You have no idea how much fun it was to write that Victoria scene! Anyhow, thanks for reading and feel free to leave a review. See you next update!**

 _Track 10: Worn Me Down - Rachael Yamagata_


	11. One Good Piece Of Me

**11 - One Good Piece Of Me**

"Yes, I'll need that statement sent out to every news and tabloid organization as soon as it's humanly possible," Millicent could be heard saying while she paced back and forth around Brooke's office. "Yes, I am well aware of what it states, Calliope, but it is not your place, nor is it mine, to question Brooke's orders on this subject." She let a heavy sigh. "No, this isn't some sort of stupid hazing ritual or idiotic joke. This is a bonafide order of the highest priority." Millie took off her glasses to rub the bridge of her nose while listening to whatever it was the other girl was going on about. "Just get it done, or you'll be looking at another strike on your record. Are we clear, Calliope? Good. Call me when you're finished."

"Everything copacetic?" Brooke questioned, just noting how tired her personal assistant actually appeared right then.

"Yes. I've got a handle on it, boss," Millie assured her. "No worries."

"I'm never worried when I know you have my back, Mills," she complimented, rising from her chair. "That said, I'll need you to cover the store. I'm going to update Peyton over lunch. Shouldn't be more than an hour, eighty minutes tops."

"Will do, boss," her personal assistant nodded.

"Oh, and one more thing," Brooke paused along her way. "You and I will need to have a talk about giving you a raise when I get back."

That brought a genuine smile to the younger woman's face. "I like the sound of that."

"I knew you would," she waved over her shoulder. "Okay, see you then."

"Later, boss," Millicent called out. "Say hi to your girlfriend for me!"

"Very funny, Millie!" Brooke cried back with an amused grin.

The drive between the boutique and Peyton's studio was fairly uneventful, save for a near miss when some idiot decided to run a red light at the intersection on Third and Main, so it obviously didn't take Brooke long to reach her destination. It wasn't until she'd parked her SUV in the studio parking lot when Brooke finally noticed how beautiful the weather really was. It was warm and sunny with very few clouds in the sky. Today was the epitome of peaceful.

That peace was disrupted upon Brooke's entrance of Red Bedroom Records though, the unmistakable sound of arguing coming from Peyton's personal office down the hallway. She glanced over at Haley, who was acting as the label's receptionist for the day, hoping for some sort of explanation. Before either of them could say a word though the door to the office could be heard swinging open, which was followed by several heavy footsteps after that. Barely two seconds after that an irate looking guy with a shaved head came into view, who used his shoulder to push past Brooke on his way out the door.

"Hey, watch where you're going, you jackass!" Peyton shouted at him, having joined her best friend near the reception desk.

"Fuck you, dyke!" he shouted without looking back.

With the now shut glass doors preventing any further harsh words to be exchanged, a concerned Peyton turned to Brooke.

"Are you alright, B? You're not hurt, are you?"

"Other than wondering what the hell that was all about, I'm fine," Brooke assured, gently slapping away her overprotective friend's hands. "Stop it, P, I said that I was fine!"

"Well, if you say so," Peyton pouted.

"You know, I can't believe that I'm saying this but Rachel was right," Haley commented from behind them. "You two do have weird lesbian energy."

"Oh, shut up," Brooke retorted.

"Hey, I just call them how I see them," the shorter brunette shrugged.

"Anyway, I come bearing news," she turned to the blonde. "Are you free for lunch?"

"No, sorry, I still have to deal with rest of the band, who, by the way, are still waiting for me in my office," Peyton hiked her thumb down the hall. "And after that, I have several errands to run. So no can do, Brookie Monster."

"I'm free for lunch," Haley offered.

"But if Peyton has errands to run, whose going to watch the studio while she's gone?" Brooke frowned at her.

"Once I'm done with the band, I'm just going to shut it down for the day," Peyton told her. "I'll drop by CoB when I'm done my errands though, so you can tell me what you were going to tell me in more detail. Then after that, we can get ready for Mouth's birthday party tonight. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," she agreed. What Brooke had to tell her best friend wasn't life or death anyway, so it could wait for now. With their plans sorted out, the fashionista glanced over at her other best friend. "Ready to go, Tutor Mom?"

"Lead the way, Tigger," Haley returned happily.

As Brooke held the door open for her shorter friend to walk through, her gaze fell on a content looking Peyton. She was so damned proud at how far her best friend had come since their return to Tree Hill, and there'd be hell to pay for anybody who tried to disrupt that progress.

* * *

It had been a trying day of peaks and valleys for Peyton.

Oh, the day had started out well enough. For all her scathing sarcasm and general odiousness, Peyton had to admit that Rachel brewed a mean cup of coffee and was a decent cook to boot. So that was a peak. Traffic had been pretty hectic that morning, which Peyton has to count as a valley. When she arrived at the label, Haley was there waiting to help one last time this week. Chalk another one up in the peak column, thank you very much.

Eleven o'clock eventually came around but before Peyton could go meet the band in the studio as previously planned, Jason entered her office with the band to inform her that she was fired as their producer. Boo, another valley. Just when things were looking bleak though, the egotistical singer let slip that the reason he was firing Peyton was due to the (very true) rumour of her being gay. This did not go over well with the rest of the band, who immediately kicked Jason out of the band that he'd originally started. And to add on top of that good news, the band all voted in favour of her suggestion of putting Mia front and center. Double up on the peaks, baby! Unfortunately, Mia put a damper on the celebration by saying that'd she have to think it over due to not being used to the spotlight. So, that was another valley. Add in the fact that Peyton had to skip lunch with her best friends for this band meeting, and the peaks and valleys were all tied up.

All in all though, Peyton couldn't exactly complain about how things had turned out so far today. The height of the peaks were far higher than the depths of the valleys. With that in mind, Peyton was not looking forward to the coming conversation.

"Here goes nothing," she muttered under breath before knocking on the doorframe of her ex-boyfriend's office. "Hello, anybody home?"

"Well, well, well, if it isn't P Sawyer," Skills greeted from behind the desk, a huge grin on his face. "What brings you to our neck of the woods, blondie?"

"Hey, Skills," Peyton smiled back. "Is Luke around?"

"Oh, you need to be talkin' wit' Luke, huh?" he waggled his eyebrows in a comical fashion.

"If he's not around, I can come back some other time," she hesitated, really wanting to avoid this sort of conversation. The last thing Peyton wanted was for Skills (or any of her other friends, for that matter) to start thinking she wanted to steal Lucas from Lindsey, because that was the furthest thing from the truth.

"Nah, blondie, you feel free to wait here," Skills rose up from the chair. "I'll go fetch him, then I'll make sure no one disturbs you two, ah'ight?"

"Fine," she sighed in resignation. Better to get this over with now instead of putting it off, she decided. Let Skills think what he wants to, Peyton was here on Lindsey's behalf anyway. Even if her crush...um, friend wasn't aware of it. "Thanks."

"I got your back, P Sawyer," he told her on his way out the door.

"I know, thanks," Peyton replied, now seated in one of the two chairs situated in front of Whitey Durham's oak desk. While she waited for Lucas to arrive, Peyton allowed her gaze to trail along the walls where many of the beloved old coach's pictures still hung. A soft smile adorned her lips at the memories that wafted over her. Some were good, some were bad. All were precious.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Lucas said upon entering the office, his sudden appearance startling the blonde from her reverie. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Luke, you just startled me is all," she chuckled. "Nice pictures."

"Thanks," he returned, polite but somewhat stiffly.

"I suppose you're wondering what I'm doing here, huh?" Peyton grinned, sheepish.

"The thought had crossed my mind," Lucas freely admitted.

"How's the new novel coming along?" she stalled, feeling herself get fidgety.

Thankfully, her ex-boyfriend decided to play along. At least, for the time being. "Quite well, actually. The first draft is about three quarters finished. With any luck, I'll have it done by the end of the month."

"That's awesome, Luke. You coming to TRIC later for Mouth's birthday party?"

"Of course, Lindsey and I will be there."

"Cool, cool," she looked away at the mention of her crush. Damn it, her friend. "So, when's your home opener again?"

"How long are you planning to stall before you finally get around to talking about the real reason you came here, Peyton?" Lucas called her out.

"Huh, I thought I could drag that out for at least another twenty minutes," she joked.

"Peyton," he narrowed his eyes at her in disapproval.

"Oh, the infamous Lucas Scott squint," Peyton quipped. "Been a while since I was on the receiving end of that, hasn't it?"

"If you're here just to bust my chops, could you do me the favour of scheduling it for another time? Because I am very busy today with watching videos and drawing up plays for next practice."

"Alright, sorry, I don't mean to waste your time," she apologized. "But what I came to talk you about is, um, how do I put it? A tad complicated."

"Isn't that how it always is with you?" he pointed out, not unkindly.

"I suppose that's fair," the record producer agreed before segueing. "So I ran into Lindsey last night."

"I'd tread carefully, if I were you, Peyton," he warned, once more aiming that disapproving squint her way.

"And now you see why I was stalling," she told him, which brought an appreciative nod from the rookie head coach. "Anyway, as I said just a second ago, I ran into Lindsey last night and she seemed pretty upset. And seeing as she sought me out for advice on how to deal with you, I can't help but think that you did something, um, for lack of a better word, stupid."

"You have a lot of nerve sticking your nose into my personal business, Sawyer," Lucas told her.

"Okay, I know that I've probably crossed a line here," Peyton admitted, her palms held up in capitulation. "But try seeing this from my end, will you? The current girlfriend of my ex, whom I still care about very much, comes running to me for help. Said girlfriend is one of most fantastic people I've met who makes my ex very happy. So when said girlfriend shows up upset but unwilling to give up details as to why she's upset, I kind of have no choice but to get involved. Especially when both parties are my friends."

"You're right, you did kind of get dragged into this," he stated, apologetic. "We had an argument."

"I think the words, 'no shit, Sherlock,' would be appropriate here," she quipped, only to wince at how rude that had been. "Sorry, go on."

"Lindsey thinks that my coaching the Ravens is interfering with my writing," Lucas leaned back in his chair. "I told her that I could handle it. She then demanded that I prove it by showing her how much I've written since we moved here, but I refused. Told her I want to finish the manuscript before letting her read it." He let out a tired sigh. "She called me a liar and stormed out. And you know the rest."

"What's the real reason you don't want Lindsey to read it?" Peyton pressed, only to slowly realize the answer at his inability to look her in the eye. "Me? Really, Lucas? You wrote another book about me?"

"It's not so much about you than it is about letting you go," he answered, completely sincere. "It's my way of finally dealing with the fact that you and I are done, Peyton. It is, uh, one of the most painful things I've ever written."

"I don't know what to say, Luke," Peyton confessed while blinking back tears at his honesty. All the guilt from that night in Los Angeles came rushing back, that horrible memory of his broken expression when Peyton said no to his marriage proposal once again threatened to overwhelm her. And now it was her turn at not being able to look Lucas in the eye. "I'm sorry that I hurt you so badly."

"No, no, Peyton," he walked around the desk to kneel down in front of her chair. "I didn't say that to make you feel guilty. It was just the truth, okay? This new novel, it's how I'm going to move on from you, how we're going to able to be friends again, okay?"

"I thought we were still friends though," she sniffled.

"We are but this-" Lucas gestured between them. "-is still fractured, we're not fully healed. At least, I'm not. And I hate how we are right now. I hate this uneasiness, this brokenness. I hate it. Don't you?"

"I hate it, too," she admitted. "I miss your friendship, Luke. Your support. You always believed in me."

"And I always will," he promised. "Now, no more tears. We have a friendship to rebuild."

"Heh, you've grown up, Lucas Scott," the former artist remarked, wiping her tears away. "When did that happen?"

"Honestly? It's still a work in progress," Luke joked.

"Isn't that how it always is with you?" Peyton teased, remembering his earlier comment.

"Touché," he laughed.

"I should probably head back now," she moved to rise her chair, which caused Luke to do the same from his position in front of her so as to give Peyton room. "Brooke said she had wanted to share some news, so I don't want to keep her waiting. You know how she can be."

"Yes, I do," Lucas nodded.

Now face-to-face with the man she'd once believed to be the love of her life, Peyton couldn't help herself. She reach out to embrace him, an action that Lucas easily returned in kind.

"Finish writing that book," she rasped into his ear. "I want my friend back ASAP, you got it?"

"Got it," he promised.

When they separated, Peyton started heading towards the door where she hesitated for a moment.

"One more thing, Luke," she said over her shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Lindsey," Peyton began, only to pause at the now familiar guilt she'd been feeling on being attracted to her ex-boyfriend's girlfriend. "She's quite the catch. Don't fuck it up."

"I'll try not to," she heard Lucas say, but by then Peyton was already out the door and down the hall.

* * *

"You're sure that you're up to this?" Brooke asked the red head walking between herself and Peyton, the trio now meandering toward TRIC's main entrance.

"Yes, I'm sure, Brooke," complained Rachel, who then glanced over at the blonde to her right. "Is she always this overprotective?"

"We both know you already know the answer to that question," Peyton chided.

"You're both ungrateful bitches," Brooke told them without any malice.

"Whatever, let's head in," the redhead yanked open the door.

"Looks pretty hopping," Peyton observed once they were inside, barely audible over the blaring music.

"Not bad," Brooke agreed with a grin.

"I'm gonna find the birthday boy," Rachel told them, referring to Mouth. "Wish me luck!"

"Good luck," Brooke called out. As she watched her troubled friend zigzag through the crowd, the fashionista felt Peyton grasp her hand.

"She's going to be fine, Brooke," the blonde told her.

She raised an eyebrow at her best friend's reassurance. "You think so?"

"With you in her corner, I know so," Peyton promised.

"Thanks, P," Brooke smiled, grateful.

"Anytime, B," she returned, only to jump at Haley's sudden appearance. "Jesus Christ, Hales! We've talked about you sneaking up on people!"

"Have either you seen Lindsey?" Haley ignored the complaint, a worried expression on her face. "I can't find her anywhere."

"What happened?" Peyton more or less demanded to know, which caused Brooke to stare in surprise at the blonde's heated response.

"She and Lucas had a huge fight about fifteen minutes ago," their mutual friend explained, seeming to have not noticed Peyton's tone. "Last time I saw her, she ducked into the washroom but when I went in there five minutes ago to check on her, nothing. I've been looking for her ever since."

"Where's Luke?" Brooke interjected.

"Getting shit-faced at the bar," Haley muttered, bitterly.

"Okay, Brooke, you go check on Lucas and make sure he doesn't get too obliterated," Peyton ordered, taking control of the situation. "Haley, you keep looking for Lindsey here in the club. I'll take a swing around the neighbourhood, first on foot and then, if that fails, by car. Hopefully, we'll have those two idiots back together and made up before tonight's done. Then we can get back to celebrating Mouth's birthday like we're supposed to be doing."

"Alright, I'll take another look around here," Haley agreed, turning away to do just that.

"Good luck," Brooke cried out but doubted that the shorter woman had heard her. She then turned to Peyton. "Be careful out there by yourself, P. Tree Hill isn't as safe as it used to be."

"I'll be fine," Peyton assured her with a quick hug. "Take care of Luke, okay? Make sure he doesn't do something stupid. I'll be back as soon as I find Linds, I promise."

"Good luck," she said for what must have been the third time in as many minutes.

"Thanks," the blonde smiled while heading back out the door.

Now standing alone near the entrance, Brooke decided it was best if she did what Peyton had suggested and sought out Lucas at the bar. Upon arriving there, Brooke found the blonde haired author nursing a glass of scotch.

"Hey, there, Broody," she sidled up to sit next him. "What's up?"

"I'm messing up my life, that's what's up," he grumbled.

"I'm sure it's not that bad, right?" Brooke tried to cheer him up. "It's just one fight, Luke. It'll blow over. Lindsey loves you."

"I don't know, Brooke," Lucas muttered, looking completely miserable. "I screwed up pretty bad this time."

"What happened?" she asked.

"I wrote another book," he downed the scotch. "Or rather, most of another book, I should say."

"Oh, Luke," Brooke sighed, already seeing where this story was going. "It's about Peyton, isn't it?" He nodded. "And Lindsey read it before you could prepare her, didn't she?"

"Right on both accounts," Lucas raised his empty glass in an attempt to grab the bartender's attention. "Owen, my friend. Another please."

"Make that a bottled water," she ordered, not wanting her hurt friend to exacerbate the current situation with more alcohol. "And call him a cab. He's had enough."

"I've had three drinks tonight," Lucas complained, none too thrilled at being cut off and sent home so early into the evening.

"And if you want to be clearheaded enough to fix things with Lindsey when you get home tonight, then that's all you're going have," Brooke told him in no uncertain terms.

"Damn it, you're right," he growled. "God damn it, Brooke, I don't want to lose her."

"Then get home and wait for her, talk it all out when Lindsey gets there," she advised him. "Like I said before, that girl loves you. If you just explain everything to her, this will all pan out and you two will get back to being sickeningly sweet to each other."

"I really hope you're right," Lucas ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated by how the night had turned out. "I'm gonna go wait for the cab."

"Thanks," Brooke said to the bartender when he'd arrived with the bottle water, which she then handed to Luke. "Take this, I'll cover your tab. No arguments, I insist."

"Thanks, Brooke," he took the bottle from her. "This means a lot."

"It's just water, Lucas," she joked.

"You know what I mean," Lucas gave her a quick hug. "If you could apologize to Mouth and everyone else for me, that'd be great."

"No need, they'll understand," Brooke pushed him towards the direction of the main doorway. "Go home and wait for your girl, Scott."

"Wish me luck," he waved.

"Don't need to," she smiled. "You got this."

"Alright, good night," Lucas waved once more before weaving his way through the crowd.

"You are way too supportive of that jackass," Rachel said into her ear, the redhead having snuck up on the fashionista as per usual.

"Where's Mouth?" Brooke glanced at the former model, choosing to ignore Rachel's unfair observation.

"VIP section," she answered. "Hey, your assistant's in there, too. What's up with that?"

"I think Millie and Mouth are a thing but I wouldn't quote me on that," the clothing designer informed her friend, who appeared to deflate a little at hearing that. "What's wrong?"

"I think I missed my chance with Mouth," Rachel stated, her expression honest and forlorn.

"Rach, I love you," Brooke laid a hand on her friend's shoulder. "But that ship sailed a long time ago."

"Ungh! I hate how I let my addictions ruin everything in my life," the redhead lamented with a shake of her head. "Fuck, I need a drink! I wonder what kind of virgin cocktails this dump serves?"

"Let's find out," she offered, ready to follow after Rachel. When her friend stood her ground though, Brooke shot her a bemused glance. "Rach? What's wrong?"

"You are entirely too helpful and too kind and too compassionate," the former model pointed out, not for the first time since returning to Tree Hill. "And one of these days, it's going to bite you in the ass."

"If that happens while I'm helping one of my friends, then it'll definitely be worth it," she retorted without any hesitation.

"You're a hopeless romantic, Brooke Davis," Rachel told her with a sad smile. "Come on, let's join the others."

As Brooke allowed Rachel to lead her toward the VIP section, she caught a glimpse of Haley across the club. The fashionista briefly wondered how Haley's search for Lindsey was going but those musings were interrupted by an impatient Rachel, who shouted her name to grab Brooke's attention.

"Alright, alright, hold your horses," Brooke playfully complained, her last glimpse of Haley heading down the hallway that led to Red Bedroom Records being quickly forgotten.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. A review would be great.**

 _Track 11: One Good Piece Of Me - Big Wreck_


	12. Wicked Game

**12 - Wicked Game**

The cool night air struck Peyton full in the face, its gentle caress doing wonders to calm her worried mind. A deep, steadying breath later had her down the front steps and back on the street, where she briefly hesitated on which direction to head in before deciding on her left. There were a few people around her own age on their way towards TRIC's main entry, though none of them were who Peyton was searching for. A quick turn at the end of the building brought her to where the street entrance of Red Bedroom Records was located, only some sixty to seventy feet ahead of her. It was about halfway towards there that Peyton noticed somebody was seated on its front steps, and another ten feet before she recognized the identity of that somebody.

"You know, if you keep showing up on my doorstep like this," the blonde quipped upon reaching the seated figure. "People are gonna start to talk."

"Took you long enough to get here," griped Lindsey without a hint of rancour.

"Oh, you were waiting for me?" Peyton raised an eyebrow, curious.

"No, I just sit in front of random buildings for the fun of it," her crush scoffed. "Of course, I was waiting for you."

"Someone's feisty," she noted aloud.

"Don't be fooled," Lindsey laughed, a tad bitter. "It's all bluster. I'm actually on the verge of losing my fucking mind right now, thank you very much."

"So, on a scale of one-to-ten, how bad was your fight with Lucas?" Peyton asked, her concern on full display.

"I don't know," she sighed, rising to brush dust off the seat of her dress. "Probably about an eight? Nine? It was pretty intense, that's for sure." Lindsey gestured to the door. "You going to let us in, or what? Because I am not in the mood to head back into TRIC to see him or Haley right now."

"Still need time to cool off, huh? I get that," the blonde nodded in understanding. "Come on, I have a bottle of single malt scotch hidden in my desk drawer. You can bitch at me about what happened. Or talk about the Hurricanes. Or the price of tea in China. Whatever you need right now."

"That sounds fantastic, actually," her crush smiled, which caused Peyton's heart to skip a beat without warning. "You're the best, you know that?"

"And here I am not even trying. No wonder so many people hate me," she joked while fishing her keys out to open the door.

"I find it hard that anybody could hate you," Lindsey told her. "I know that I certainly don't."

"That's good to know because I kind of like you, too," Peyton blurted out without thinking, which had her take an obvious verbal back step. "You know, we're friends, right?"

"Yeah, of course," her 'friend' agreed with a slight tilt of her head. "At least, I hope so."

"Cool, cool," she laughed, feeling all sorts of awkward now. "Come on, let's head inside."

"Lead the way," Lindsey gestured.

Once they were inside, Peyton closed the main door and led the way into the label's lobby.

"Where's your washroom again?" Lindsey asked, her voice sounding somewhat raspy. It was most likely from her shouting match with Lucas, the producer deduced.

"It's the second door down the hall," Peyton reminded her. "Between the booth entrance and my office."

"Go get that scotch from its hiding place, Peyton," the book editor told her, already beginning to behave a bit more cheerful. "I won't be long. Promise."

"Alright," Peyton agreed. Upon entering her office, she walked behind her desk to fish out the bottle of scotch from the bottom drawer along with two lowball glasses. After pouring their drinks, Peyton decided that maybe some music was in order. Despite her label and TRIC being in the same building, the music from the club was barely above that of a whisper here in her office due to all the soundproofing that Peyton had ordered installed. She had just reached her record collection when Lindsey could be heard entering the room. "Hey, I was thinking we could listen to something while we were lounging around here. What are you in the mood for?"

"Whatever you choose is fine," Lindsey answered, her heels clicking audibly against the hardwood floor. "Maybe something bluesy?"

"Something bluesy, huh?" Peyton began to hurriedly sift through the nearest shelf of records for an appropriate choice, only to freeze dead in her tracks at the sudden and unmistakable warmth that was another person's embrace. "Uh, Lindsey?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know," Lindsey whimpered into her ear. "But could you just go with it, Peyton?"

"Lindsey, I-"

"Please?"

Unable to outright refuse the desperate request, Peyton disengaged herself from the other woman's embrace enough so that they were now face-to-face with one another. It was then that Peyton noticed how she was now wedged between Lindsey and her record shelf, the other woman's hands on her hips effectively trapping the blonde in place. When Peyton glanced up to meet Lindsey's gaze, she was taken aback by the sheer desire that was on display in those steely grey eyes.

"You are so damn beautiful," Lindsey breathed out, barely above a whisper.

"Linds-" she began, only to have her words cut off by soft lips being pressed against her own. Instinctively Peyton reached up to gingerly cup Lindsey's face, her eyes fluttering closed as she lost herself in the moment. When Lindsey finally broke the kiss to meet her gaze, Peyton found herself wide eyed and breathless.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that," her crush confessed.

"What?" the blonde squeaked in surprise.

"Now you know why I've been so skittish around you lately," Lindsey informed her, all while gently caressing the blonde's forearm up and down. It was damned distracting!

"So you're not homophobic then?" Peyton blurted out, feeling rather stupid as soon as the words left her mouth. "Can we forget I just said that?"

"Gladly," the beautiful woman standing before her agreed. Time seemed to cease in its passing while Peyton surrendered herself to the moment.

For that instant everything felt perfect. No thoughts of betrayal or hopelessly crushing on her ex-boyfriend's girlfriend lingered in Peyton's thoughts. All that mattered right then and there was that the woman who Peyton had been fantasizing about for the last couple of months felt the same way as she did. It was bliss.

Of course, that bliss had to meet an abrupt end when she felt Lindsey go stiff in her embrace.

"Did you hear something just now?" Lindsey rasped before Peyton could ask what was wrong.

"No, can't say that I did," she answered honestly, having strained her ears for about twenty seconds or so.

"I must have imagined it then," her crush scoffed, dismissive of whatever caused the book editor to pause. "Sorry if I sounded paranoid there. I just really like you and I'm all wound up here."

"I think I have a solution for that," Peyton grinned, her hands sliding up under the other woman shirt where the blonde caressed soft bare skin.

"As much as I want to, we should probably stop, Peyton," Lindsey stepped back, albeit in a rather reluctant fashion. "I mean, I'm still technically with Lucas, so..."

"Oh, right," she agreed, her ardor thoroughly deflated at the thought of her ex-boyfriend's face. "I kind of forgot about that."

"You might've forgotten but I didn't," her paramour sighed. "How terrible does that make me?"

"Not terrible," Peyton shook her head. "Just human."

"Small consolation," Lindsey said with a gentle smile then reached up to tuck a tendril of loose blonde hair behind Peyton's ear. "That said though, I wouldn't give this moment up for the world. You have me whipped, Peyton Sawyer."

"Just say the word, Lindsey," she promised while clasping her hand, laying a quick kiss to the back of it. "And I'm yours."

"I need to do something first then we can see where this goes," Lindsey took a step toward the blonde before leaning in so that their foreheads were now touching. "Until then...one last kiss?"

"How can I say no to that?" Peyton relented, immediately closing the small gap between them.

It wasn't until Lindsey had left Peyton alone in her office that the blonde began to worry on the implications of what had just happened and, more importantly, what the coming consequences would be. No matter how she and Lindsey played this out, it was going to be a complete and utter mess.

"Dammit," Peyton muttered under her breath, not at all looking forward to dealing with a heartbroken Lucas Scott again.

* * *

It must have been only eleven o'clock when Brooke had gotten home with Rachel by her side, the pair having bowed out of the party some scant twenty minutes ago. Mouth had been disappointed to see them leave early but his mood quickly changed when Millie whispered something into his ear. Brooke led an annoyed Rachel away before the redhead could say something derogatory about the new couple, especially on their friend's birthday.

"I know that little mouse is your assistant," the redhead complained to her left, the two women walking up towards the front door from the parked SUV. "But I swear if she shoots that little taunting smirk my way again, I am going to slap the taste out of her mouth."

"Oh, you're just saying that because she has something you want," Brooke scoffed. "Or rather, someone you want."

"Aren't you the one who told me that ship has already sailed?" Rachel reminded.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you still can't want it," she lobbed back. "Or him, as the case may be."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the former model waved her comment off. "Where do you suppose Emo Barbie ended up?"

"Is that actual concern about Peyton I hear in your voice?" Brooke raised an eyebrow.

"Curiosity, nothing more," denied Rachel, dismissive. "Hey, did we leave the lights on when we left?"

"If Victoria made herself another set of house keys, I'm going to lose my freaking mind," she growled.

"Would it be cool if I made some popcorn before you did that? No? Okay then," her friend jokingly rambled as they entered the house. "Hello? Anybody home?"

"In the kitchen," Peyton called out from around the corner.

"Well, now we know where P Sawyer ended up," Brooke said to the redhead.

"And with that mystery solved, I'm off to bed," yawned Rachel, heading up the stairs to the guest room she'd claimed as her own. "Good night, you two."

"Good night," she replied over her shoulder while joining Peyton in the kitchen, who had her back to Brooke because she was presently looking out the window. The blonde's tense posture told her best friend that something was wrong. "What happened to you tonight? Did you end up finding Lindsey?"

"Yeah, I found her," scoffed Peyton. "As to what happened? That's a bit complicated."

"Isn't that how things always get around here?" Brooke joked.

"Can't argue with that," her best friend agreed, clearly troubled by something.

"Seriously, Peyton, what happened to you tonight?" she pressed.

"How long did it take you to forgive me?" Peyton asked back, still gazing out the window.

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that, P," Brooke told her, even if she did have a suspicion on what the blonde meant. It wasn't something they talked about much, even to this day. Although what had happened between Peyton, Lucas and herself was now water under the bridge, the fact remained that the whole triangle had left a dark stain on their friendship. One that she was not fond of looking back upon. Because unlike her best friend, Brooke was not an emotional masochist. Or at least, she tried not to be.

"You know what I'm talking about, Brooke," she turned to Brooke, thus confirming her best friend's suspicion.

"I can't give you an exact timeline, Peyton," answered Brooke, completely honest. "Six months? Nine months? A year? I don't know for sure. It's not something I like thinking about, really. It hurts to think about it, how badly we treated each other. And all over a silly boy."

"That silly boy was the first person we both fell in love with," she pointed out.

"Well, that was before you figured out you liked girls more and I figured out exactly what I want from life," she countered.

"And what exactly do you want from life, Brooke?" Peyton turned around to face her.

"What does everybody want from life? To be happy on their own terms," Brooke stated.

"And those terms would be?" Her best friend frowned in response.

"That's a conversation for another time," she promised. "Right now though, you're going to tell me what has you so flustered."

"Something happened," her sullen friend looked away. "I didn't mean for it to happen, never in a million years thought it could, to be honest. And I sure as hell didn't initiate it but now that it has happened, I want to see where it takes me. Go with the flow, you know?"

"You're not one who usually goes with the flow though," Brooke pointed out.

"I know," Peyton said over her shoulder.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain book editor, would it?" Brooke guessed, somehow already knowing the answer. The blonde's stunned expression when she turned to face Brooke once again was simply confirmation. "I don't know why you're looking at me like that. It's been pretty obvious for awhile now the two of you were crushing on each other big time. Well, at least to me, anyway."

"Well, it wasn't obvious to me," Peyton rolled her eyes in complaint, those lithe arms now crossed over her abdomen.

"Of course, it wasn't," she chuckled softly in amusement. "Like they say in Spain; _'El amor es como el fuego. Suelen ver el humo los que están fuera antes que las llamas los que están dentro.'"_

Her best friend frowned at her, not understanding. "Which means?"

"Basically it means, 'Love is like fire,'" Brooke translated with patience. "'People on the outside see the smoke before the people inside see the flames.' Or something to that effect."

"When did you learn Spanish?" Peyton raised an eyebrow, curious.

"I'm not fluent but I can get by in a pinch," she waved it off. "But that doesn't really matter right now. What does matter now is how you're going to get some clarity on the situation between you and Lindsey because whatever happened earlier tonight has you all wonky! And knowing you like I do, Peyt, you won't be able to sleep at all tonight if things are left as they are."

"So what do you think I should do then?" the blonde asked at a near whine.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Sawyer," Rachel shouted from upstairs, clearly annoyed by how dense their friend was acting. "Go talk to the girl! Some of us are trying to sleep here!"

"I am really starting to hate you," Peyton shouted back, her eyes narrowed in the direction of the stairs.

"She does kind of have a point though, P," Brooke told her.

"Ungh, fine," the record producer relented, her hand held out to Brooke. "Can I borrow your SUV? I'm low on gas."

"Good luck," the fashionista smiled at her best friend while handing over the keys.

"It'll be almost midnight by the time I get there, so I'm probably wasting my time anyway," Peyton complained on her way out the door.

"So she's really going to do it," Rachel said from the top of the stairs.

"Yup," nodded the brunette.

"Good for her," the former model stated with a approval, only to quickly add. "Wait a second, isn't Lindsey the name of Lucas' girlfriend? They wouldn't happen to be the same person, would they?"

"Yup," she nodded again, though this time in a more solemn manner.

"Well, shit," Rachel swore, now more aware of what was going on. "That's going to be awkward."

"Yup," Brooke agreed, knowing that no matter how things went down between Peyton, Lindsey and Lucas, one of them was going to end up hurt. And there wasn't anything she could do to stop it.

* * *

"This is a bad idea," Peyton muttered under her breath while still trying to gather the courage needed to knock on the front door of her ex-boyfriend's home. "I should just go home instead. She's probably not even here if she's already broken up with him, so this is a waste of time. And even if she is still here, they're probably both asleep, so I should just go ho-"

"How long were you planning on standing there talking to yourself?" Lindsey cut in, the front door now wide open.

"Probably all night if you hadn't decided to end my torture," she answered in earnest.

"You are such a dork sometimes," the other woman commented with a fond smile.

"Yeah, well, I'm your dork," Peyton began to say, only to falter at how that beautiful face fell. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I just-"

"Honey, who's at the door?" Lucas called out from down the hall.

"What's going on?" Peyton demanded softly of Lindsey, who was refusing to look her in the eye. "Linds?"

"Oh, hey, Peyton," the former love of her life greeted upon joining them. "What brings you here so late? You all partied out?"

"What's going on?" Peyton repeated. She felt her stomach tighten, her gaze plastered on Lindsey's left hand. Or rather, what was on the ring finger of said left hand. "Is that what I think it is?"

"I'm sorry, Peyton," Lindsey apologized with her left hand now reluctantly held up to show off the engagement ring that adorned her finger. "You came too late."

"Lindsey, don't be-" Lucas started to rebuke his girlfriend. No, his fiancé. She was his fiancé now.

"It's fine, Luke," Peyton halted him. "Not your fault that my timing is garbage." She swallowed hard against the lump forming in her throat before continuing in a strained tone. "Congratulations, you two. I hope you get everything you ever wished for."

"Peyton," Luke began to say.

"I'm gonna go now," she choked out. "I really am happy for you, Luke." She then turned her hurt gaze toward the woman by his side, the woman who she'd fallen for in such a short period of time. "It would've been something great."

"Yeah, probably," Lindsey agreed, her steely grey eyes watery.

"Guess we'll never know," Peyton told her coldly before walking away. As the blonde entered Brooke's parked SUV, Peyton could hear Lucas in the distance asking his fiancé what was going on between herself and Lindsey but she didn't bother on waiting to hear whatever excuse the other woman came up with.

Lindsey Strauss was no longer her problem.

 **Reviews are appreciated.**

 _Track 12: Wicked Game - Chris Isaak_


	13. Suddenly I See

**13 - Suddenly I See**

"Are you sure about this, Rach? Do you really have to leave?" Brooke rasped, sad to see her troubled friend go.

"Yes, Brooke, I'm sure," the redhead reiterated, a travel bag slung over her left shoulder. "I need to do this. If I want to get better, I have to make peace with all the people I hurt when I was spiralling out of control. And who better to start with than my parents?"

"What about Mouth?" Her question caused the former model to briefly pause in consideration before she shook her head.

"The way I am right now, I'd have no chance stealing Mouth from Millicent. You know it, I know it," Rachel snorted, rueful. "Hell, I bet even that little mouse probably knows it, too, so why bother?"

"What are you going to do when you get there then? Besides patching things up with your folks, I mean," a defeated Brooke continued.

"I don't know," the redhead shrugged. "Go back to school, maybe? I'll figure it out when I get there." Rachel then held up her hand when the fashionista was about to ask yet another question. "Seriously, Brooke, I'm going to be fine. Thanks to you, I have a great start. So cut it out with all this drama and give me a hug already. My cab is waiting."

"I'm going to miss you, girlie," Brooke embraced her friend, unable to prevent a sniffle from escaping.

"Hey, now, it's not like we're never going to see each other again," Rachel assured, though her own voice was raspy with emotion, too. "I'll be back, I promise."

"You better," she told her. "Now get going, I think your driver is getting impatient."

"Just one more thing before I go," the redhead said, her amber eyes serious. "Keep an eye on Emo Barbie, okay? I don't think she's handling being thrown over for the Broodmaster 3000 very well."

"That's an understatement if I've ever heard one," agreed Brooke, thinking back on how her best friend had been in a foul mood for the last several days.

"Just keep an eye on her," Rachel repeated with an affectionate peck to the cheek. "See you around, whore."

"See you around, skank," she laughed while watching her friend enter the cab. As the taxi began to drive away, a smiling Rachel Gatina gave Brooke one last wave through the window. And then she was gone.

* * *

"Come on, you guys. I know you can do better than this," Peyton complained into the mic, not at all pleased with the band's effort in the last track. "Do better!"

"You're being too hard on them," Haley told her from the chair beside the blonde. "You need to ease up, Peyton."

"They're not going to get any better if I don't push them, Haley," she snapped.

"Okay, you guys take a break," the young mother said into the mic before turning it off.

"Haley, what the hell d-" the blonde began to say, only to be interrupted mid-sentence by her friend.

"You're being too hard on them, Peyton," Haley repeated, this time with a more forceful tone. "Look, I know you're going through a hard time right now, but taking your bad mood out on Mia and her band is not going to get you anywhere."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she denied.

"I know that you're upset about Lucas and Lindsey's engagement," her friend told the blonde.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Peyton stated again, though her voice betrayed the hurt that had been dogging the record producer since finding out about said engagement.

"You can cut the act, Peyton," Haley reached over to grasp her hand. "I know what happened, and I don't blame you for being angry with her." She let an annoyed sigh escape. "Hell, I kind of hate how she treated you."

"I don't want to talk about this," the blonde begged her friend.

"I get it," the shorter woman kept going unabated. "You're hurt but what did you expect to happen?"

"I said I don't want to talk about this!" she cried.

"Too bad because you need to get past this," insisted Haley. "She's engaged to Lucas now, Peyton! I know you thought that something was going to happen between you two when you kissed, but-"

"She told you?" Peyton looked up in surprise, pulling her hand away in the process.

"It doesn't matter how I know, Peyton," her friend told her. "What matters is how you come back from this. Are you really going to let it ruin everything you've built since coming home to Tree Hill?"

"Shouldn't you be mad at me? I mean, Lucas is your best friend," Peyton sniffled. "And I made a move on his girlfriend. You should be furious with me!"

"From where I was standing, it looked like Lindsey was the one who made the move on you," Haley placed her hand on Peyton's shoulder. "If there's anyone you should be mad at, it's Lindsey. Don't push away all the people who love you just because you're in pain."

"I know you mean well, Hales, and please don't think I'm being unappreciative," she took a shaky breath. "But I'm still pissed off, and I'm going to stay that way for a long time."

"Being angry is fine, Peyton," the young mother assured the blonde. "And I can't blame you for feeling that way. You have every right to be pissed off. Don't let it seep into your other relationships though, don't let it make you bitter. Lindsey may be a sweet girl but she's also pretty fickle from the looks of it. You don't deserve to be treated that way."

"But Lucas does?" Peyton looked up again.

"No, he doesn't, but how exactly am I supposed to tell my best friend that the woman he loves, the woman he intends to marry, cheated on him with his ex-girlfriend?" Haley pointed out.

"That's a valid question, I guess," conceded the record producer, unable to maintain her friend's gaze.

"Yeah, I have my work cut out for me," she scoffed. "Speaking of work, did you want to keep going? Or should we call it a day?

"Let's keep going," Peyton sighed. "But would it be alright if I made a phone call first? I have to phone Brooke and apologize for being such a brat the last couple of days."

"Of course, Peyton," Haley smiled before rising to her feet. "I'll go talk to the band and give you some privacy."

"Thanks, Hales," she smiled back.

"No problem," her friend exited the booth.

As soon as she was alone Peyton fished her cellphone out from her bag then scrolled through its contact list until coming upon her best friend's name. After hitting the send button, she simply waited for the fashionista to pick up.

"Hey, it's me," Peyton greeted when Brooke finally answered on the third ring.

* * *

"Okay, I'll see you I get home," Brooke said into her cellphone while pushing the grocery cart with her free hand. "Oh, and Peyton?"

"Yeah?"

"You'll get through this," she answered.

"Oh, I know that I will," laughed the blonde from her end. It was a welcome sound to Brooke after witnessing the other girl's foul temperament for the last several days. "I just want to make sure I still have friends when I do though, hence this call." Beat. "Speaking of friends, how're you doing now that Red is gone? You alright?"

"I'm fine," Brooke half-lied. "Or I will be once I convince myself that letting Rachel go stay with her parents was the right decision."

"Yeah, well, if it isn't, we can always track her down and bring her back here," Peyton suggested, which brought a chuckle from the brunette. "Anyway, I gotta go now. Haley just got back in the booth, so I'll see you when I get home."

"Bye, P."

"Bye, B."

With the unexpected call now over, Brooke placed the cellphone back into her bag and continued shopping for groceries. Back in New York she never got the opportunity to perform this task, usually being forced by her mother to have assistants to do it for her instead. Now that she was living in Tree Hill again, Brooke took an odd pleasure in hitting the local supermarket by herself. Maybe it had to do-

"Well, if it isn't Brooke Davis," Lucas happily greeted from down the aisle, his sudden appearance derailing her train of thought. A quick glance to Luke's left revealed that his fiancé was with him, who at least had the decency of looking uncomfortable with running into the designer. "And shopping for her own groceries, too! Will wonders ever cease?"

"Eat a dick, Lucas," she snorted in mild amusement.

"Will hot dogs do? I was thinking of having a barbecue later," he joked, his jovial mood nearing infectious levels. If Brooke didn't know the source of his joy and the effect it was having on her dearest friend, then Brooke would be tempted to outright laugh at Lucas' antics. Instead though, she simply gave him an eye-roll before greeting his fiancé with a forced smile.

"Hello, Lindsey," she nodded.

"Hello, Brooke," Lindsey returned, stiff but polite. "Nice weather that we're having, huh?"

"Yeah, it's wonderful," Brooke quirked an eyebrow at the mundanity of their exchange.

"So how are you doing?" she asked, her earlier discomfort making a comeback.

"Okay, what's going on here?" the designer demanded, having had enough of this stilted conversation. "I know that we're not on the best of terms right now but this is starting to creep me out."

"I told you this was a bad idea, Lucas," Lindsey said to her fiancé.

"What is she talking about, Luke?" Brooke turned to face him. "What's a bad idea?"

"Full disclosure? We were going to head over to your shop after we were done here because Lindsey wanted to ask you to be one of her bridesmaids but was afraid that you'd refuse-"

"-because of Peyton," she finished for the author, her gaze now fixed on the other woman. "Not a bad read on the situation, to be honest. She is my oldest and dearest friend, after all."

"Okay, I understand that but just hear us out, Brooke," Lucas interceded. "As you know, Lindsey and I are planning a small wedding here in Tree Hill next month for probably about forty or so of our closest friends and family. And it would mean a lot to us if you would be in the bridal party along with Haley and Dina."

"Who's Dina?" Brooke inquired.

"A close friend from college," Lindsey said in a curiously swift fashion. "She's also my maid-of-honour."

"Close friend, huh?" the designer smirked, unable to resist the urge to pry. The editor's inability to meet her gaze made Brooke suspicious. Could it be that Peyton wasn't the first woman who Lindsey had a dalliance with? "Interesting."

"Not really," the editor denied.

"Look, we'll understand if you say no," Lucas began.

"And I probably should say no out of loyalty to my best friend," Brooke cut in. "But since both of you are also my friends, I have to talk this over with Peyton. That sound fair?"

"Fair enough for me," Lucas answered for both of them, ignorant of the worried expression on his fiancé's face at the moment. "Thank you so much, Brooke! This means a lot to us! Right, Linds?"

"Yes, thank you, Brooke," Lindsey agreed, though her demeanour Brooke told a different story. "It means a lot."

"Don't be thanking me unless I actually accept," she told the couple. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have groceries to pay for."

"See you around, Brooke," Lucas said to her back, the fashionista already pushing her cart away.

On the way towards the nearest checkout counter, Brooke snuck a peek back at the soon-to-be bride and groom. With a shake of her brown tresses, she pondered on how to proceed now. The brunette was so lost in thought on how to bring the subject up with Peyton that she almost rammed her cart into the person directly ahead of her in line.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she began apologizing to whoever the designer had nearly run over. "I wasn't-"

"Well, that's a hell of way to say hello to an old classmate."

"Whoa, long time no see," Brooke smiled at the familiar face, her worries momentarily assuaged as an idea formed in her head.

 **Thanks reading. Feel free to review on your way out. See you next update**.

 _Track 13: Suddenly I See - KT Tunstall_


End file.
